Love in the Library
by SasukeBlade
Summary: A chance meeting in the library turns into friendship and eventually develops into something more. HermioneCedric
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Yeah I'm Ms. Rowling. I own this series. I'm just writing this fanfiction because my editors wouldn't let me have a Cedric/Hermione pairing even though it was my heart's desire... OK now that I have exited the fantasy dream land and taken my anti-delusional pills I own nothing. Curse you pills!

* * *

**

She knew it was wrong to look at him like that. To watch him like that. To bristle whenever other girls looked at him. He wasn't hers. She had no claim on him whatsoever, romantic, friendly, or otherwise. She had no association with him at all, and they had never even spoken to one another. Not even a friendly hello in the halls… she was surprised at how lonely she felt just thinking about their lack of contact. Before such thoughts could swamp her though she chastised herself; she had no right to even wish for contact! He wasn't hers!

Hermione Granger lowered her gaze to her book, and then slowly raised it up again. He was back, sitting only five tables away, luckily with his back to her. The young Gryffindor would never be caught ogling some boy, she decided. Plus, he was Cho Chang's. Not hers. She was on a fairly friendly basis with Cho; they worked together on some projects in Arithmancy and Hermione had helped Cho with her Muggle Studies homework on occasion. It was really just a passing acquaintance for the most part, but Hermione still didn't want to earn the girl's ire.

But still, no matter what protests she gave, she couldn't help but notice that Cedric Diggory was one of the best looking young men at Hogwarts. And oh how she noticed.

Five tables away the young man sighed loudly and ran his hand through his hair as he studied the book in front of him, completely oblivious to the pair of eyes that scrutinized him so carefully. He seemed to be rather interested in what he was reading, Hermione observed, if maybe a bit frustrated.

This observation carried on for awhile longer, Hermione memorizing as many details about him as she could. So many things drew her attention; his straight shoulders, muscled back obvious through the sweater, the way he held his quill while thinking, the way he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, the way he would shift in his chair every so often. She told herself it was just studying of another kind but in the back corner of her mind she knew she had crossed the line from studying to obsessing long ago.

Suddenly Cedric sat straight up and turned, looking about. Before Hermione could duck her head or lower her eyes he spotted her and said, "You, come over here."

She froze, eyes shifting from side to side looking to see whom he had called. It appeared he was looking at her but… she turned to look behind her. "Do you mean me?" she finally asked.

He seemed slightly annoyed by her answer. "Of course. Who else would be in a library on a Saturday evening?"

She bit back her response of "You," and closed her book, marking the page and then walking over to his table. "What is it?"

He stared at her for a long while, gray eyes boring into hers as if he could somehow extract an answer without ever asking a question. After several moments of this close scrutiny she almost left, but somehow she felt compelled to stay. What spell had he woven on her to make her stand rooted to the spot while he stared so?

"What is love?" He finally asked, eyes still holding her own. Hermione nearly laughed. What a ridiculous question! She was about to say so only to realize that he was serious and truly wanted an answer, so she began to think, trying to remember all the definitions of love she'd ever read.

Finally a definition came to her. "An emotion, I guess. Affection, attachment, devotion." But to her the answer just didn't quite sound right… it rang untruthfully. She was missing something. But what? She racked her brain for a better answer but couldn't come up with one. "Why?"

Cedric looked away then, slumping slightly in his seat, and Hermione felt almost relieved. And yet she missed having his warm eyes locked with hers… Hermione mentally slapped herself. _"Not mine!" _she warned herself, trying to quite the excited jumping of her heart at being so close to him.

"I guess I was just trying to figure out how I could tell if what I'm feeling is like or love, you know? It's so confusing," he once again ran his hand through his hair, and a few strands fell into his eyes. Hermione had to forcibly still her hand from rising up to brush the locks of hair away.

"I know how you feel," she said, biting her lip. "You think it's love but then you suddenly wonder if maybe it's not and to treat it like it is would be a mistake. And then you start second-guessing yourself, trying to think through every emotion you've ever had concerning that special person, and eventually it becomes such a jumbled mess that you can't figure out anything." Her mind added silently, _"And then you talk about love with the person you care about because you're so sad and pathetic and you know that that's the only way you'll ever be able to get close to them._" She winced at the harsh words, because she knew them to be true.

Cedric sat bolt upright again and stared up at her, eyes wide. "You _do_ know!" he said, voice colored with his surprise. "What did you do?"

Hermione laughed quietly and quickly sat down in the seat across the table, knowing their conversation was attracting the attention of the hawk-like gaze of Madam Pince. "I'm still in the second-guessing stage, myself," she confessed, smiling slightly at the irony. "So I'm not so sure myself."

Still, Cedric remained perked up. "Maybe you could help me! You know, give me advice or just tell me your perspective on stuff! Please!" The Hufflepuff sixth year lowered his voice further, the just above a whisper. "You're the only one I can talk to so far!"

Hermione was both amazed and flattered by his words. "Please, there must be at least twenty people at this school who you could talk to."

His eyes narrowed. "My friends just tell me that be it like or love, it doesn't really matter and I really don't feel like discussing my love life with a teacher."

She smothered a giggle; the image of Cedric discussing his problems with Professor Snape was too funny. He mock glared at her as she covered her grin with her hand and tried to stop laughing.

"All right," she finally agreed once her giggles had subsided. "What do you want to talk about?"

The young man looked at her levelly and folded his hands on the tabletop as he leaned forward. "What love is."

Hermione was finding it hard to breath as he once again stared at her with those penetrating eyes, but this time he was so close. If she just leaned forward, probably less than a foot, she would be kissing him. The thought made her blush and she mentally slapped herself again. He wasn't hers to be kissing or even to be having these thoughts about!

She stalled for time as his gaze turned more questioning at her red face. "Umm…" she paused. "I already told you."

He frowned and shook his head. "I mean what love is to _you_. Tell me, _Hermione Granger_, what love is to you."

Her heart jumped at the stressing of her name, but even after it calmed she found she still couldn't answer. He was waiting for her response, but she just couldn't say it. She opened her mouth a few times, but nothing emerged. Finally Cedric seemed to read her mind.

"Let's try another question then," he said lightly, and Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice just yet.

"What do you think is the difference between love and like?" He asked, and Hermione grinned slightly.

"You sure don't ask any easy questions do you?" she joked, and was encouraged by the fact that her voice had returned and that he had smirked at her joke. It was not a cruel smirk liek Malfoy's, rather, it made him look quite handsome. She quickly shied away from those thoughts and returned to finding an answer, and surprisingly one appeared to her immediately.

"Like is selfish. You want more for yourself than the other person. Love isn't. Love is… selfless." She smiled at the way she seemed to be finding all the right words to express her answer. "You focus more on the other person and not just on yourself. Also, love is deeper, more complicated than just simple infatuation." Her brain suddenly presented her with a quote, which she used immediately. "'Love is not finding the perfect person, it is finding an imperfect person that you see perfectly.' I don't know who originally said that or if I even used the correct words, but the sentiment is what's important."

He was looking at her, expression unreadable. She searched his face, trying to understand what he was feeling but she wasn't quite sure of the expression in his eyes just then. It was respect, admiration, warmth… and something else. But it was gone before she could read any more into it and was replaced with the first true smile that he'd ever shown her. "I always knew you were smart, Granger, but that was amazing." His voice was warm and sincere, and she knew she would treasure the compliment forever.

Before she could speak again he stood up. "Thank you. I think I've just about figured it out now. And I really hope you don't mind but after all that…" he trailed off helplessly, but Hermione understood what he wanted to say.

"You need some time to think."

"Yes!" He grinned and shook his head. "You understand me just a little too well, Granger. Thanks for the wisdom."

Hermione smiled and nodded and headed back over to her table as he walked out the door. She continued to watch him until he was out of sight, and even then continued staring in that direction, her heart and mind in a turmoil.

He wasn't hers. She shouldn't feel this way about him. It was wrong.

But sitting opposite him, looking deep into his eyes, it had felt so right.


	2. Chapter 2

**By popular demand this now is more than a one shot. Thanks for all the lovely reviews everyone! My internet and also my access to fanfiction seems to be having a problem so I can't reply to everyone... sorry!  
**

**This Chapter is dedicated to CaricatureofIntimacy. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews!

* * *

**

Hermione Granger was once again in the library, this time for the purpose of checking out a book. The first task was over and done with, and it was getting towards the end of November. She frowned slightly; she had only finished six of the ten sections of books in the library, not counting the Restricted Section. At this pace she would never finish every single book in the Hogwarts library. The particular book she was searching for, Great Muggle-born Wizards and Witches of the 18th Century, was up on the eleventh shelf, too high for her to reach and so tightly wedged that when she had tried the Accio spell she had nearly brought the whole bookcase down on herself. A rather tight situation, to be certain.

She was determined to have this book, as not only had she not read it yet she needed it for an essay. She knew the witch Elizabeth Smith had done extra research in charms and that some of the subjects covered in their class had to do with the ancient witch's studies. It was merely for double-checking her essay, really.

She snorted at how falsely innocent her thoughts were. In reality nothing would stop her from reading every book in this library, not even this stupid bookcase. Hermione snarled at the case and then set her foot on the protruding ledge of the second shelf, testing her weight before hauling herself up to stand on it. So far so good. But she still wasn't tall enough.

The fourth shelf should put her high enough to reach it. The fifth shelf would give her better leverage though. She clambered up three more shelves and then stared up at the book that was so obstinately stuck in its position. "Oh you are worse than Ron!" She growled at the book as she let go of one of her holds to tug at it. It still would not budge.

She removed her other hand carefully, leaning forward to make sure she didn't fall off backwards and proceeded to tug harder. The book moved a bit this time, and Hermione grinned in triumph. One more good tug should do as long as she pushed the book crowding it a bit.

She pushed the other book as far as she could and firmly gripped the book she wanted. Taking a deep breath, she quickly yanked the book out, causing her to totter unsteadily and waver as her instincts warred between dropping the book and saving herself or protecting the book at any cost.

Suddenly a voice startled her. "What do you think you're doing?"

Hermione squeaked in surprise and spun to face Cedric Diggory, her squeak quickly becoming a scream as her hip collided with a shelf and she wavered too far backwards. Then gravity overtook her, and she began to fall.

He was shouting something and running toward her and everything seemed to speed up for her as the bookcase flew away from her. She reached out one hand trying to make one final desperate attempt to grab it, clutching the book in her other hand as she fell. Her hand never even came close to the bookcase and a quick thought flashed through her head. "This is going to hurt."

Then she thudded into a pair of strong arms that seemed to be falling as well, and she found herself being held by Cedric Diggory as he collapsed onto the floor, breathing hard. "You idiot!" he hissed at her, gasping for air like a wounded fish. "You could have broken your neck!"

She was staring up at him, so wide-eyed and still shaking in fear. He was right. She could have been seriously injured… in fact had her head impacted with the sparsely carpeted stone floor she might even have died. Her brain coldly calculated how much force it would have taken to kill her and where she would have had to hit, and she knew she was lucky that he had caught her. Of course, had he not been there she wouldn't have fallen.

"Well I wouldn't have been startled if you hadn't distracted me!" she retorted, fear making her words come out sharper than she intended. Cedric glared at her, eyes narrowed at the girl still in his arms.

"So it's my fault, eh? So I made you clamber up a bookshelf like a monkey?"

Hermione glared at him as well, acutely aware that he was still holding her close and that she was practically sitting in his lap. "You didn't have to come and shout at me!"

His hold tightened on her slightly. "And you could have just asked for help or gotten a ladder!"

She flushed slightly. She had forgotten that there were a few ladders for the exceptionally tall bookcases. "So I didn't think of that! Not all of us are perfect you know! Not all of us are as perfect and handsome and amazing as Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts Champion!" She realized what she had just called him and flushed an even darker shade of red, hoping he hadn't caught it.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she flushed even more if it was physically possible. By now she looked like a tomato, and he suddenly remembered had just occurred and the near miss it had all been. "I didn't mean to shout at you… it's just… you surprised me as well and I spoke without thinking and then you fell and…" he stopped, gray eyes screaming out his sincerity. "I was so worried. I'm sorry." Her hair, wafting with the different drafts in the room, tickled his face slightly and he brushed it away with a trembling hand. It had been such a near miss... had he reacted a second too late she would have been laying on the floor injured or worse...

She calmed down as well, her face paling slightly to return to more of its normal pallor. "I'm sorry too. Thank you for saving me." They both looked down, and suddenly realized what position they were in, she perched in his lap and he holding her so close to him. Cedric let go of her as if he had been holding a hot brick and she quickly jumped away from him, Hermione dusting off her robes and trying to stop her hands from shaking while Cedric rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, cheeks tinged slightly red. _"Merlin, Cedric looks so good when he's embarrassed.Then again he looks good all the time..." _The Gryffindor 4th year kicked herself mentally at such thoughts._ "And I'm the one whose only love is supposedly something with two covers and lots of paper and ink. If only they knew...__"_

"So… you got your book." Cedric's voice cut through the silence that was quickly becoming awkward, and Hermione smiled.

"So I did."

"Well, umm, I guess I'll see you later." The Hufflepuff turned and walked briskly to the end of the row, only stopping as Hermione's voice called out to him.

"Cedric?"

"Yeah, Granger?"

"Thank you for saving me and all that."

"No problem. I'll catch you any time." Cedric's eyes widened at the realization of what he'd just suggested. He did not want Hermione Granger in his arms again… did he? The Prefect banished the question from his mind and quickly exited, while Hermione leaned against the bookcase and smiled.

Outside the library, Cedric Diggory leaned against the cold stone wall, tipping his head back to look up at the ceiling. What the hell had just happened in there?

He'd been holding Hermione Granger… and yet he was dating Cho Chang. He loved Cho… didn't he? He certainly liked her and he certainly considered her in a selfless way, but sometimes he wondered if he was really happy with her. The girl was so cold and analytical sometimes that he couldn't help but wonder what he really meant to her.

Suddenly the visage of a young woman with wild, untamable hair popped into his mind, and he shook his head to clear it but found himself unable to. Hermione Granger had been so small… her attitude had always made her seem so strong but when he'd caught her he'd suddenly realized how frail she really was. And she was so warm…

He shook his head to clear the thoughts of the young girl from his head. She was so young…

_"Only a year younger than Cho," _a part of his brain seemed to whisper. _"And much more mature than her, that's for certain."_

Cedric Diggory grimaced. It seemed like everything was ganging up on him, even his own brain. He really needed to go do something, anything to take his mind off of things.

The young man set off for his common room, desperately looking for something to distract him from these new thoughts that had suddenly decided to make themselves known.


	3. Chapter 3

**Still having computer trouble. I'm sorry! I love all of you reviewers (you guys are the reason I'm going to update this story crazy fast, your reviews are so encouraging! Thanks so much!) Anyway I love the pairing I'm writing and I'm sorry for any verb tense mistakes toward the end; I ended up switching from past to present so when I went back and fixed it I might not have caught every single tense change. My bad.**

**Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue. Deal? **

**Do you all think I should start titling the chapters? I have good titles, I just don't know if I should title them now that I've already began... let me know what you think! **

**

* * *

**

She grimaced as she ran a hand through her hair, glaring at the way her fingers couldn't trail through easily. It just knotted up so easily…

Her hair wasn't the only thing in knots. Her mind, heart, and everything else were too. She had just agreed to something the day before and was now wondering if it was the wisest thing for her to have done.

Viktor Krum had asked her to the Yule Ball. And she had agreed to go with him.

She wasn't going to back out; that would just be cruel. It was just that she was wondering if she was going to regret it. Hermione sighed and brushed some of her hair out of her eyes as she stared at the book in front of her. It wasn't like she was going to be asked by anyone else anyway. She was lucky he had asked her really. Lucky.

The word made her cringe slightly, and she closed her eyes as she tried to sort through her thoughts. There was no reason to regret saying yes to Viktor Krum, after all, the only person she wanted to be asked by had a girlfriend and Krum was as good a date as any she supposed.

It seemed so cold to say it like that but that was how she felt about it. For her, Krum was second best, certainly better than Ron, that stupid, selfish, overbearing idiot!

She sighed and opened her eyes, only to find them only inches away from gray orbs. She gasped and the orbs backed away and suddenly she realized that she had been staring into the eyes of Cedric Diggory. Or rather, their faces had been in very close proximity.

"_Don't turn red, don't turn red."_ She silently begged her face as she tried to speak in what she hoped was not a squeaky voice. "Hello Cedric."

"Hello Granger." He pulled back and sat in the seat across from her, lounging with apparent ease in the hard chair. "Interesting book you got there. Dancing, hmm? Got a date for the Ball?"

Hermione flushed slightly, embarrassed not just by the book but by the fact that she felt proud that she hadn't flushed more. "Yes, I thought it would be best to study up on how to dance that way I won't shame my partner."

"You might as well just say it, Granger. Your _date_." He laughed for a moment and then noticed that she wasn't laughing as well. "What? You did get asked, right?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

He leaned forward slightly, staring at her over the top of the heavy volume. "And you agreed to go, right?"

She looked away slightly, not even blushing this time. Viktor Krum did not bring any butterflies to her stomach, rather, just complete neutrality. Those were the only words to describe it, complete neutrality. Not peace, not calmness, just no feeling whatsoever. "I did."

"So what's wrong? Are you wishing someone else had asked you? If that's it then why didn't you just ask that person or say no to whoever asked you?"

"Not everyone is as perfect as Cedric Diggory, Hogwart's Champion," she said, recalling the words, letting them lead her to what she wanted to say. "Not everyone is as brave as Mr. Diggory. Not everyone is as sure to get a date as Mr. Diggory is. I had to say yes, no one else would have asked me."

He seemed taken aback by her statements. "Of course someone would have! Don't sell yourself so short, Granger!"

She whipped her head back to face him, eyes boring through to his very soul. "You're joking. Who else would have asked little Hermione Granger, the library loser, the bossy bore, the horrible homework-doer, the bucktoothed bushy-haired brainiac? Who else?"

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing as he laughingly said, "Are you done with the alliterations yet?"

She stared at him for a moment longer and then pushed her chair back so she could stand. Cedric stopped laughing and looked up at her, surprised. She gathered her books together and shoved them into her bag, regardless of corners or condition or anything. She had to leave before she slapped the arrogant Prefect.

"Hermione?" She didn't listen as she strode away from the table, concentrating on just putting her feet one in front of the other, fighting tears. "Hermione, I didn't mean it!"

She kept walking though she could hear him scrambling to catch up with her. She waited until he was close behind her before spinning around to catch him by surprise and grabbing his shirt collar, yanking him down to her level before speaking. "Hermione! Hermione, I didn't mean it!" She mimicked him, pitching her voice higher than usual in an unusually cruel act for her. "Of course not! You didn't mean it, you thought I was just joking! Too bad for you, _Diggory_, that some of us are actually serious about things occasionally! Not all of us can waltz through life on good looks and money you know!"

He glared at her, gray eyes narrowing. "So that's what you think, hmm? You think life is just a walk in the park for me?"

She wasn't about to back down from such a challenge. "That's exactly what I think!"

What happened next was something she would not have predicted by a long shot. Cedric glared at her for a second and said, "Fine then." And the next thing she knew she was slung over his shoulder and he was walking somewhere, most likely back inside the library judging by the bookshelves she saw pass by. "You and I," Cedric said, not sounding the least bit exhausted, "Need to have a talk. Alone."

She considered shouting, knowing Madam Pince would immediately come over to see what the fuss was about, but then she decided to just go along with it. She wanted this, in a way. Alone time with Cedric. Plus, she rather liked the feeling of being carried by him (although being carried slung over his shoulder like a gunnysack was rather unromantic).

He finally set her down on a desk that was placed at the end of two shelves in what she guessed was fairly far back in the maze of shelves, judging by the poor lighting and the dust covering the books. The best lighting came from the window to the desk's right, but even then the rain and dark clouds made for very little natural light. "So, Granger, I think you're selling yourself short and you think that everything for me is easy. I think we need to rid one another of such… delusions. What do you think?"

The situation had dissolved from being one of anger to something completely different, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his word choice. She wasn't going to turn down a chance to converse with Cedric, after all. "I agree. Who should start?"

"Why don't I?" He offered, and Hermione nodded, wondering what on earth he was going to say. "So first tell me how you think my life is easy and then I'll counter, deal?"

She raised her eyebrows at him but agreed. "Deal."

He gestured for her to start, and bit her lip, taking her time to gather her thoughts. "You're the school's Golden Boy. Good grades, good looks, good at sports, hey, you're even a Seeker on your House team. Your teachers love you and so do your parents, you've got a girlfriend that a lot of guys would love to have," she said, and smiled at the thought of how many times she'd seen Harry stare at Cho recently. Too many really. His eyes were glued to her. "You've got everything, even the Slytherins won't mess with you for the most part."

He glanced sidelong at her, and then began his defense. "I work for my grades, I work out often, I couldn't help my looks, I practiced every day and every night all summer to get onto that team and I still practice more than anyone else on the team, the teachers love me because I work hard and try, my parents… I love them but to be honest sometimes I can't stand them because they expect too much of me. My girlfriend…" Cedric winced and Hermione wondered why he was wincing. "She's a great girl and all but sometimes I wish the other guys would just take her. The Slytherins don't mess with me because in second year I hexed one a fourth year into unconsciousness. Plus they know I've got a lot of teachers to back me up."

Her mouth quirked a bit at his quick explanation. "Still, it does seem like things have gone well for you. Maybe Lady Luck's got a crush."

He laughed quietly, his white teeth flashing in the gloom. "Maybe you're right. I have been lucky… too lucky sometimes." His face shadowed suddenly and Hermione wondered what he was thinking of. "Anyway, now it's your turn to prove why you're not selling yourself short."

She frowned and ran a hand through her hair again, and Cedric frowned as he noticed. He hopped up on the desk next to her and she sighed, trying to organize her thoughts. He waited quietly, knowing she wouldn't say anything until she was ready.

"It's just that no one else would ask me," she finally said, so quietly he could barely hear her even in the silence. The rain tapped gently against the window beside them, giving them the sense that time had somehow stood still as the natural lighting did not change at all.

"But you're so pretty," he whispered, and she almost didn't hear it and yet still didn't pay attention to it. He didn't mean it anyway she told herself.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." His voice cut across hers, far stronger and more convinced whereas hers was sad and defeated. "You could be stunning if you tried."

She barked a short laugh. "If I tried. If I tried. Do you know how sick and tired I am of hearing that? Nothing good ever comes of trying to look pretty anyway. If I do then guys will just like me for my looks and I _don't want that_! And you know something, every single time I've tried to look pretty something bad has happened. Every single time. So I'm through with trying to look pretty."

He stayed silent for a few moments and she suddenly realized how warm she felt sitting beside him. Without even realizing it she leaned closer to him and he mimicked her until they were leaning against one another, both thinking.

"You'll get someone you love someday," he finally said, and she almost scoffed at it. "Don't sell yourself short. I used to think I would never have a girlfriend or a date and look at me now."

She didn't laugh, biting her lip to control the sarcastic sound that would have emerged. "Not everybody gets a fairy tale ending, Cedric. Not everybody goes from being the proverbial ugly duckling to being the swan princess, or in your case prince. Just because you found your happiness doesn't mean the rest of us are going to."

He murmured something so quietly she was almost certain he didn't say it. And yet she knew that he really did say, "Who says I'm happy?"

She didn't respond to this, knowing he didn't mean for her to hear it and instead plunged on. "I'm not going to get someone and that's that. Not in time for this Ball, not by the end of this year, not ever."

He turned his head so he could stare directly at the side of her face. "Why are you selling yourself so short?" He finally asked, breaking the long silence between them.

Hermione snapped. "Because that's all I know how to do! Because that's all I've ever done and a few paltry words aren't going to change it! You can't say a few cute phrases to me and suddenly make me believe that one day a prince will come and save me! If something ever happens to me, I'm going to have to save myself. No one else will. And you _know_ it!"

His voice is so quiet in comparison to hers that she actually stops speaking to hear what he has to say. "I think you're not giving your friends a fair chance."

She leaps off the desk and shakes her head. "Friends? The only reason that Ron likes me is because I help him with his homework, and yes Harry is a good friend but he's going to have to save everybody, not just me."

"What about Cho? She speaks highly of you."

"Cho Chang would throw me off a cliff to suit her own purposes," Hermione shot back, and Cedric half winced because it was true. Cho would tolerate others but if need be she would gladly sacrifice any of them to obtain her own ends. "There's no one else Cedric. I'm going to end up all alone someday and apparently everyone knows it but you."

He shook his head, not understanding her. "No, you won't."

She glared at him adamantly. "Yes, I will."

He got up off the desk. "No, you won't."

She walked right up to him until their bodies were flush with one another, so close that she had to tilt her head completely upwards. "Then prove it."

He didn't say anything or move, so she smirked, a cold smirk that was almost a mirror of the one that git Malfoy was always wearing. She backed up a few paces, and said, "I thought as much."

"What would you have me do, Granger? Go drag you around the castle until we find someone who would be willing to marry you?"

Hermione was taken aback. Her smirk faltered and her eyes widened as she tried to respond. "I—,"

Cedric kept pressing though, and he began advancing on her as she kept backing up. "Drag you around until we find a date you'd be satisfied with? What about Longbottom? He asked you didn't he?"

"Y-yes, but—,"

"Take a survey of what students at Hogwarts think of you? How about have a ballot to see whether they find you more attractive or datable than Pansy Parkinson? Or better yet, threaten someone into being your boyfriend? What do you _want_ from me, Granger?"

She was crying by then, tears slowly making their way down her face but what disturbed him the most about it was how she did not make any sound or any movement. Her shoulders did not shake with silent sobs and her body did not tremble, rather, tears just streamed down her face and fell to the floor, making no sound.

Right then he realized that he had backed her up to the window, that her back was pressed against the cold glass and that he was looming over her like a crazy person. And suddenly he backed down, completely backed down, overwhelmed at the sight of her grieving.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but before he could say anymore he realized he was still pressing her against the glass, and that she was trying to dry her tears but they were still coming, so he pulled her close and held her, trying to offer what little comfort he could give.

They stood for a long time like that, Hermione with her head buried in his chest and he staring out the window at the falling rain. Finally she pulled back a bit, dry-eyed.

He was about to speak when she silenced him by reaching up to cover his mouth with her fingertips. He was seized by the strong urge to kiss those delicate fingertips one by one and was startled when she spoke, her voice suddenly low and husky.

"All I want from you… is this." And then she slid her hand down to the collar of his robes and pulled him down as she rose up to press her lips onto his.

He was completely stunned for a moment, as if she had hexed him, but obviously she must not have because as his brain and heart were shouting complete gibberish his body began to respond, pulling her closer as she deepened their kiss.

But long before his body thought that kiss should have been over she suddenly broke it and edged out from the corner they were in, backing away from him, her hands held up. "I… I'm so sorry!" She stammered and then turned and sprinted away, too fast for his stunned brain to catch her.

Cedric Diggory stood in the back corner of the library for a long time afterwards, fingers pressed to his mouth as he contemplated what just took place this afternoon. Hermione Granger has kissed him. He had kissed Hermione Granger.

His heart certainly seemed happy, jumping about like a maniac and his body felt like he'd just used an energizing charm, but his brain could only wail one thought.

What would Cho think?


	4. Chapter 4

**I love you, my wonderful reviewers. You all really encourage me... cookies and Cedric dolls for everyone! **

* * *

She grimaced at the way her feet were hurting, at how her eyes hurt and head hurt and especially how her heart hurt. She was cowering in the library, completely visible to anyone who might walk by, and yet no one did. Everyone else was still down at the Ball, dancing the night away. Only she was up here, having a quiet cry and feeling sorry for herself.

"I'm pathetic." Her voice trembled a bit, but when she said it again she seemed to gain strength. "I'm pathetic."

She remembered how happy she had been that morning, and how now it all seemed like a faraway dream, like the more she tried to grasp happiness the more it slipped away through her fingers like water.

The first thing Hermione thought of when she awoke on the morning of December the 25th was, "Good Lord, the Yule Ball is tonight."

There were presents piled at her feet, books and whatnot from some friends and acquaintances, a tooth care kit along with a new dental research book from her parents, some candy, a pair of socks from Dobby, and other things. There was even a lovely bracelet from Viktor, with a note stating that he would see her that night. The gift was lovely and she smiled more at ease with the thought of going with him. They were just friends, after all. Actually judging by how well they knew one another they were even less than that.

She finished folding the last bit of wrapping paper and pushed it all neatly into a little rubbish bin. There, now Lavender and Parvati wouldn't have to worry about fitting their own paper in. The other girls were still asleep, she noticed, Parvati drooling out of the corner of her mouth and Lavender snoring softly. With a smile she stood and, snatching a tissue, walked over to Parvati and gently wiped the corner of her mouth. Hermione smiled; although they were not close friends and didn't giggle in the halls or converse about boys or have too many discussions, sometimes she felt closer to them than she would have if they _had_ done all those things. Life was curious like that.

She waltzed her way back over to her four poster, spinning and humming and tapping out steps with her feet. The textbook had been helpful for the most part, moving pictures really helped. She had been fairly confident about the Ball until she had read that there were many types of music for each dance and then she had slowly began to worry that she might not be able to fit her steps to the music. Smart though she may have been, Hermione was not egotistical and she knew that physical activities had always been a harder subject for her to master. It worried her.

But still, this morning she was a princess and a courtly young suitor had asked her to the ball. She was going, and she was going in style. Hermione had been planning this for days now, ever since the kiss in the library. She hadn't seen Cedric since, and she worried he was avoiding her. Well, being Viktor Krum's date would make it impossible for Cedric to avoid her then. What had at first seemed an awful idea was now turning to her advantage, though she did feel a bit bad at using Viktor.

She raised her fingertips to brush them over her mouth, caressing the small lips as her memory took her back to that rainy evening in the library when Cedric had held her so tightly, when she had kissed him and he had kissed back.

Her stomach jumped at the memory and her face flushed hotly. Guilt flooded through her, she had ruined something so perfectly good and pure… wait, who was she kidding? They hadn't been friends; there had been no friendship. It had just been random conversations, a lucky save, and one all-powerful, searing kiss.

Even just thinking of it made her blush. It had been so… good too. Like nothing she'd expected. She'd heard Lavender and Parvati say how slimy and icky and stupid it was but with Cedric she hadn't noticed anything like that at all…

She flopped back onto her bed, swearing softly. "Damn you Cho Chang." She swung her arms back above her head and let them collide with the wall before slipping down with gravity and collide with the bedspread.

Except one of them didn't collide with the bedspread.

She sat bolt upright and twisted around, so quickly her back cracked in protest. There was an envelope on her bed addressed to her in a red ink that shimmered softly in the early morning light. Her name was written in an elaborate hand, with not too many frills and curlicues but still lovely. Her heart leapt at the sight of it. The mysterious envelope screamed 'Secret Admirer' and she ripped it open wildly, desperate to see what it contained.

A note tumbled out, written in the same ink and addressed to her in the same precise hand.

_Hermione,_ it read:

_I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I must claim you tonight for a dance. I'm sure you'll look lovely. You always do._

_I'll be waiting at eleven o'clock by the entrance to the Great Hall. I can't wait to see you._

_Love,_

_Your Secret Admirer_

Hermione bit her lip. What if it was Cedric? Then her logical mind caught up. It couldn't be Cedric, she reasoned. He was going with Cho (_damn her_) Chang. But what if it was? After all, she certainly had given him a reason to think of her…

A very good reason…

Hermione mentally slapped herself. When had she turned into such a… bad girl? She'd used to be so good and pure and innocent… maybe it was the time she'd caught Seamus and Lavender making out that she'd started getting these ideas, or that time she'd seen Cedric…

That memory made her cringe and yet also made her feel so… wistful. She'd come out of the library late one night and had seen Cedric and Cho kissing in the corridor. Well, it had progressed to more than just kissing, to be certain. Hermione had been so shocked that she'd ducked back into the hiding place that the doorway provided her. And yet she hadn't been able to stop herself from peeking. The thought of watching those two kiss and touch and embrace and kiss until she thought they were going to rip one another's clothes off was almost too much for her. But sometimes, late at night, she tried to imagine it as if she had been Cho Chang, being kissed so passionately and lovingly…

It was enough to make her want to scream and throw something with envy.

Damn Cho Chang.

Tonight, Hermione was going to go all out. Tonight, she was going to get the guy. And maybe even meet her secret admirer… the thought made her shiver with delight. Her whimsical brain carried her away into indulgent fantasies of it being Cedric who was waiting for her, and she giggled softly to herself as she floated away into Hermione Happy Land.

"Hermione…umm, Hermione. Snap out of it. Hermione…" A hand waved in front of her face and she blinked as someone patted her cheek lightly.

Lavender stood over her. "Are you okay?"

Hermione beamed up at her, not caring at how ridiculous she looked, daydreaming at seven in the morning. "I'm fine. No, I'm great!"

Lavender pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Okay then. Anyway, oh, presents!" The girl squealed and turned away from her, and Hermione picked up her note again.

"Eleven o'clock, hmm?" She considered. Why not?

Visions of her and Cedric dancing together, so close, so close beneath the moonlight of the hall ceiling made her smile and throw her arms back behind her.

It was going to be a great day.


	5. Chapter 5

**I wanted to update sooner but I couldn't...major project due yesterday, so here's the newest chapter, up as soon as possible! Enjoy, and thanks to all who are reading... it just... it makes me so happy. All warm and fuzzy inside.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe. Anything that is non-canon is mine. I used a lot of quotes from the Yule Ball chapter (23) from J.K. Rowling's book Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I understand that these are not my original quotes and would therefore appreciate if you would not sue me for their usage. Thank you.  
**

* * *

She was ready. There was nothing more she could do to beautify herself, any more last touches would just make the overall effect gaudy and loud. Hermione was going for the beautifully serene look, and it echoed in her periwinkle blue robes and the way she had done her hair up in an elegant knot, with some curly tendrils left free so as to frame her face. She had thought she would look like herself, just minus the books, so it came as a complete surprise to her when she saw the stranger in the mirror.

The Muggle make-up she'd brought with her had made her eyes stand out and seem more deep and attractive while her lips seemed to be set in her small face like a jewel in its case. Her hair made her seem so much older suddenly, and she realized with a start that she was not a silly little girl anymore but a young woman and she determined on this night to be treated as such.

Hermione Granger was going to the Ball.

They met by the Entrance Hall, and Viktor took her arm and led her to the center where Professor McGonagall was briefing Fleur and her date. Neither Cedric nor Harry had arrived yet, and Hermione shook her head and tsk-ed softly to herself. Boys, always so late. Not Viktor though.

Yes, yes, very good, her brain encouraged. Keep thinking of Viktor, your _date_. Hermione clenched her teeth together and firmly told her brain to shut its mouth. Which it then retorted by saying it had no mouth to shut.

She was about to growl when she felt Viktor's hand on her arm and as she turned to look at him she saw over his shoulder the face of Cedric Diggory.

He didn't seem to see her though, in fact, he was looking at the short, beautiful Asian girl beside him. Of course he was looking at her, Hermione thought miserably. She was so beautiful in her silver dress robes…Cho smiled up at something Cedric said and Hermione nearly cut and ran. She couldn't take it, seeing him smile at another girl that way.

And then Cedric looked at her, and it was as if everything else fell away, because it just didn't matter suddenly.

Hermione stared at him, dressed in his handsome robes and his hair combed nicely and not tousled. He looked wonderful, but so inanimate and still; that she missed how he looked with his hair mussed and in his normal robes, maybe sifting through books or doing some homework. In a way, the Cedric standing before her was not the Cedric she knew. The Cedric she knew laughed often and smiled and growled angrily when he was frustrated and was so much more human and alive than this caricature that stood before her, holding another girl. No, her Cedric was waiting for her in the library, behind a shelf of dusty old books, she was certain of it.

She was seized by another impulse to run, to run far, far away up the corridors and staircases to find the real Cedric, not what she suddenly realized was this pale, cheap-looking imitation that stood before her.

A hand gripping her shoulder brought her back to reality as Viktor Krum brought his face close to hers. "Are you all right, Hermy-own?" He was so close that Hermione found herself staring into his eyes that now appeared rather large.

"I'm fine, I was just thinking." _'Thinking of those gorgeous gray eyes meeting mine, his lips…'_

"Champions over here, please!" McGonagall called, and she and Viktor lined up by the doors, with Harry and Parvati beside them and Cedric and Cho on the other side. Hermione felt a bit of a twinge at not being able to stand next to Cedric where he could notice her but in a way she was glad. The conversation might have been awkward with both Viktor and Cho around. Plus, she was glad for the chance to talk to Harry.

"Hi, Harry! Hi, Parvati!" She smiled nervously at how stupid she sounded. Cedric and Viktor would think she was a stupid 4th year, getting all nervous at the thought of a Ball and of dancing with a boy.

She straightened up suddenly, determined to do her best. It felt strange to be standing so upright, she felt so much taller suddenly, more grown up. Maybe it was the absence of her book bag, weighted down with both books and responsibilities. Maybe it was the sudden absence of nervousness, whose place was filled with a certainty that she knew what she was doing and that nothing would get in her way. No, she decided, tonight was going to be her night.

They entered the Great Hall in a procession, heading for the top table. Hermione tried to catch Ron's eye to see his reaction to her date (he'd been questioning her about it all week, after all) but instead all she saw was an expression of dislike and maybe even… jealousy? But she couldn't really tell as they swept past him and Padma Patil too quickly. It was then that she felt another pair of eyes on her, this one boring through all the other feelings of the looks she was getting from other girls. This one felt like the person was staring at her with hatred.

This look belonged to Igor Karkaroff. Hermione bit her lip and thought, "So, Durmstrang's Headmaster is a Pureblood fanatic." This could be troublesome. Had Viktor asked her as a rebellious act towards his Headmaster? Then Hermione laughed quietly; after all, this wasn't a soap opera!

She and Viktor sat together at the High Table, with Cedric to her left and Cho to his left. Harry was on the other side with Parvati and Percy, Fleur and her date were somewhere along the table as were the other judges and officials. Hermione felt all tingly with suspense as she wondered when Cedric would notice her.

Dinner appeared on the plates once one made an order, and soon Hermione found herself being drawn into an interesting conversation with Viktor.

"Vell, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he said, his accent and eager tone making her smile. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these—though in vinter ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains—"

He was suddenly interrupted by Karkaroff who sat a few seats down to Viktor's right. "Now, now, Viktor!" he said, laughing in a way that Hermione knew was false. His eyes did not laugh or dance or twinkle, rather, they remained cold and menacing. "Don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

'Definitely a Pureblood fanatic,' Hermione sighed gloomily. The Wizarding World might not be racist but they had their own forms of prejudice. However, she'd certainly enjoyed the look on Malfoy's face when he'd seen her. It seemed that a lot of Pureblood girls just weren't as pretty as the Half-bloods and Muggleborns. How terrible. Must be the lack of fresh blood... eventually all the beautiful genes just died out.

Professor Dumbledore had involved Karkaroff in an entirely new conversation by then, something involving chamber pots. Hermione tuned them out and instead proceeded to continue to converse with Viktor. He was a better conversationalist than Ron, who looked like he was ignoring poor Padma completely.

Viktor was unable to say her name correctly. "Hermy-own," he called her.

"Her-my-oh-nee," she annunciated, and smiled as Viktor tried to twist his mouth around the syllables.

"Herm-own-ninny," Hermione grinned and caught Harry's eye.

"Close enough."

Cedric still hadn't noticed her, not even by the familiarity of her voice. Perhaps it was because Puppet Cedric did not remember her.

Hermione lifted her napkin to her lips to wipe them and accidentally lost hold of it, the fabric slipping through her fingertips to land upon the ground. Cedric noticed, and for the first time that night he spoke to her. "I'll get it," he said, and he sounded so normal. This Puppet Cedric sure was a good imitation.

He bent over to pick it up and his hand brushed hers for an instant and he straightened back up and looked at her, only to have his gray eyes widen in shock. "Hermione?" he whispered, and she smiled at him, heart soaring that he'd finally noticed her.

"Yes. Who else, silly?" she murmured back, trying not to draw Viktor's attention away from the conversation he was having with Karkaroff.

"It's just… you look so different…" Cedric stuttered, trying to catch his breath. She was stunning, gorgeous, lovely… Cho didn't even compare.

"What was that?" Hermione leaned closer, trying to hear what he'd just been muttering.

Cedric blushed slightly at the thought that he had been speaking those compliments aloud. "Nothing, nothing. Say…" and at this he leaned closer until his lips were brushing her ear, sending something far stronger than tingles down her spine. More like shock waves. "Say, how about you and I take a dance or two this evening?"

Hermione's heart both leapt and sank. If he was asking for a dance now this meant he couldn't be her secret admirer, right? But it was possible…

She smiled and nodded slightly, and felt him smile against her ear, sending even more earthquakes through her body. This was the real Cedric. Nobody had ever made her feel this way before, not Ron, not Harry, not even Viktor. And she barely even knew him… and yet, in a way, she knew him better than most. She had seen him thinking, happy, scared, angry, she had shared her thoughts with him and he had shared his thoughts with her, feelings too. Maybe she did know him, after all.

"Cedric…" Cho's voice cut in above their conversation. "What are you whispering about? It's not nice to keep secrets!" Cho's playful smile seemed so fake to Hermione, just like the way Cedric had been acting previously. Were they having relationship problems?

"We were just making a bet on what song the Weird Sisters would play first, is all. Hermione bet on Spellbinding Sonata and I bet on Cauldron and Kettle. What do you think, Cho?" The smile he turned on Cho was completely bland and innocent, from what Hermione could see. Cho giggled, apparently not realizing that Cedric was obviously lying. His tone was just too smooth, not... Cedric enough. The Gryffindor 4th year chuckled silently to herself at her choice of words.

"I think it'll be… Quidditch Player."

Cedric nodded, seeming to accept this. "All right, may the best choice win."

Cho glanced at Hermione then. "You look awesome, Hermione! So, tell me, how did Viktor ask you out?" Out of the corner of her eye Hermione noticed something flash across Cedric's face, and she wanted to look but controlled herself.

"He just… asked. I don't know. Is there any other way to do it?" Hermione tilted her head to one side, the loose strands of her hair falling across her face. Cedric's hand twitched at the sight, begging to brush them aside but he kept himself still as he listened to the girl's chatter.

"You play Quidditch for Huffpuff, yes?" Viktor Krum suddenly looked over at Cedric and began a conversation. Cedric smiled at the interesting way Krum pronounced his house name.

"Hufflepuff. And yes, I do. I'm Seeker. I saw you playing at the World Cup. You really faked out Aidan Lynch with that Wronski Feint."

"Yes, Lynch vos an excellent player. But I am better." Krum's decisive tone almost made Cedric snort with laughter. Was Krum trying to prove that he was better than Cedric or something? If so, whom was he showing off for?

A quick glance to his left showed that the girl he was leaning around was, in fact, Krum's date, and also the confusing thing that had occupied his mind ever since November. It almost made him laugh. Had Krum noticed their whispered conversation, and Cedric's move on his girl?

"Showing off for Hermy-own, are we?" Cedric said, knowing Hermione could not hear him as she was still talking to Cho.

Viktor glared at Cedric, staring down his long, ridged nose. "You vill stay avay from her."

It was too good for him to resist. "Can you make me?"

Krum's eyes darkened but before he could reply Dumbledore's voice rang out, asking for everyone to stand up. The tables zoomed away and the Weird Sisters trooped up on stage, meaning it was time to dance. Cedric turned and took Cho's hand, smiling at how excited she was.

They began to dance to the mournful tune, swaying side to side in a circle with Cedric steering as Cho beamed at her friends in the on-looking crowd. But there was one person she seemed to look at often, more often than Marietta or another one of her friends. Cedric tried to look unobtrusively to see whom it was but he couldn't, Potter and Patil were blocking his view of the crowd every time he tried to see whom Cho was staring at with such an expression in her eyes.

Hermione, meanwhile, was having the time of her life. Krum, though a bit awkward while walking, knew what he was doing on the dance floor. He steered her around effortlessly, and she relaxed at how easy it all was. The dance book really had been useful. Suddenly Hermione felt a hand brush across her shoulder and she looked over to discover Cho Chang mouthing the words, "You won!"

The slow song came to an end, and a faster tune started up right afterward. Hermione and Viktor separated from previously rather close hold and continued to dance, Hermione feeling more and more confident by the second. Dances weren't so bad… why didn't Hogwarts have one every year?

After awhile she and Viktor decided to stop and while he went off to get drinks she went over to sit by Harry and Ron. "It's hot, isn't it?" She fanned herself with her hand as she grinned at the boys. Harry somewhat smiled back but Ron just glared. "Viktor's gone to get us some drinks."

Ron's glare deepened. "_Viktor?_ Hasn't he asked you to call him _Vicky_ yet?"

Hermione drew back slightly, stunned by the malice that was evident in his voice. "What's up with you?"

"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you," Ron shot back as Hermione stared at him and Harry shrugged in response to Hermione's questioning and hurt gaze.

"Ron, what—?"

What ensued was one of the worst fights Hermione had ever had with Ron. She didn't understand him, what the hell was so wrong about going to the Ball with Viktor? He wasn't using her to get to Harry, he wasn't using her to get help with the egg, he wasn't doing anything other than just going to a Ball with a girl.

Ron was such a hypocrite, too! He was the one who had wanted Viktor's autograph in the first place! That lying, cheating, idiotic hypocrite!

Hermione stormed across the dance floor, heading for the doors. She checked one of the hourglasses on the wall, only to realize that it was almost eleven o'clock. Soon she would see who her secret admirer was.

She stopped in the middle of the dance floor, fixing her hair and tucking behind her ears some of the locks that had fallen out of her bun during her argument. There was nothing she could do about her make-up without a mirror. After straightening her robes, she breathed in deeply and continued toward the doors, ready to face anything.

"Please let it be Cedric, please let it be Cedric…" she whispered to herself as she walked, the words both half a wish and half a prayer.

There was a young man standing by the doors, but it wasn't Cedric. He wasn't tall enough. Then Neville Longbottom turned to face Hermione, grinning. He walked toward her and extended a hand, opening his mouth to say something.

Her heart plummeted at the sight, and all of a sudden she couldn't keep in all her emotions anymore. Anger at Ron, disappointment that it wasn't Cedric, confusion at who she should be with, Viktor because he liked her or Cedric because she liked him better than she liked Viktor. No, she loved Cedric. Didn't she? All her emotions and thoughts swarmed up and overwhelmed her, suddenly bringing tears to her eyes and then down over her face, making her sob.

Neville's face fell and he tried to catch hold of her but she slipped through his grasp and ran, ran out the Great Hall doors and up the first flight of stairs she found, going to the first place of solitude and security she could think of. She thought she heard a familiar voice calling her name but she didn't care, she just ran and ran and ran until she couldn't run any farther.

As Cedric watched the entire wordless exchange between Hermione and Longbottom, his heart plummeted. He hadn't reached the doors in time and now Hermione thought it was Neville who sent the note… but instead of Hermione going with Neville she instead slipped away, and from the side of her face that he could see she was crying.

He called her name as she dashed up the stairs, but she didn't turn and he found himself standing alone in the entranceway, wondering how everything had gotten so confused.


	6. Chapter 6

**Yes! I finished another chapter! Enjoy! (Thanks for all the wonderful reviews... they encourage me to update faster so I won't disappoint everyone who's waiting for the next update!)**

* * *

Neville Longbottom didn't quite understand what was going on. Then again it was rare when he did. He'd been returning to the Ball after seeing Ginny back to the Common Room and had stopped by the doors just to appreciate the décor, like his gran had always taught him to. "Your parents loved decorations, so I had better not ever hear of you not appreciating such, even if it's just a bit of tinsel!"

Footsteps from the Great Hall made him turn and then start forward. Hermione Granger, his savior in Potions, looked stunning in her robes, but to his surprise and utter shock she burst into tears and ran out the doors. Then Cedric Diggory rushed past him, calling for Hermione.

Neville Longbottom didn't quite understand what was going on, but he understood enough to know that it wasn't any of his business. With a sigh he went inside to go get himself a drink to while away the remaining hour.

* * *

He found her curled up in a tiny periwinkle blue ball in the library. She was crying without making a sound, and suddenly Cedric wondered how long it must have taken her to learn to do that, to cry without sobbing or breathing harshly. And then his mind jumped to that next inevitable step. How long would it take her to learn not to cry at all?

He went down to his knees beside her and gathered her up in his arms. "Hermione, Hermione, it's okay, I'm here, it's okay."

She buried her head in his chest. 'It's not okay!" Her protest, though muffled, was still audible to his ears.

"It can't be that bad. So you think that Longbottom boy is your secret admirer. It's not the end of the world," he said soothingly as he began undoing the knot she had pinned her hair up into.

"That's not all that happened." The miserable tone in her voice made him stiffen with sudden anger.

"Krum didn't… hurt you… did he?" His anger did not go unnoticed and Hermione pulled back so she could look him in the eye. In the moonlight and the dimmed illumination that came from downstairs she looked ethereal, her hair tumbling down her back in graceful curls, robes accentuating her figure and her tear-streaked face giving her an immortal look.

"What?" She questioned, touching his arm in an intimate gesture that was not lost on the Hufflepuff.

"He didn't touch you… or try to do anything… inappropriate… did he?" Cedric looked away, trying to control his anger. If Krum had done something the previously peaceful Hufflepuff decided he would kill him.

"No." Hermione's firm voice brought him out of the rage he had been working himself into. She brought her hand up to place it on his cheek and try to get him to look at her. "No. And as for how it was awful, Ron and I just got into the most horrid argument, and all because he's such a stupid hypocrite!"

Cedric hugged her close to him, now calmed and in control. "Well that's no reason to cry!"

Hermione sighed, and Cedric knew that she wasn't crying any longer. "It's just… this evening was supposed to be perfect, and it wasn't. I don't usually cry over things like this but I just got so overwhelmed."

"It's okay. We all get overwhelmed sometimes."

"Still… Ron just… he…" Hermione was biting her lip in anger as she tried to explain everything. "It's just… to him, I wasn't good enough."

He frowned, dark grey eyes looking into hers. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well… he kept telling me that the only reasons Viktor would have asked me to go with him were to get close to Harry, or, or to get help with his egg. I know it's not true but… it's as if he doesn't consider me to be good enough to be asked out because someone likes me… And now that I think about it he's right. I mean, who in their right mind would want me for… me?" There were tears forming in her eyes again and Cedric felt horrified at the sound of dull belief and acceptance in her voice.

"Neville likes you." Cedric cursed himself silently; he had wanted to say that he liked her, that he wanted her, that it was he who sent the note and not Neville. Somehow his mouth and his brain (traitorous gits that they were) were in cahoots against him.

Hermione's voice turned sharp. "Neville this, Neville that! Got an odd fixation on him, do you? Funny, I never figured you for a fairy!"

"I am not a fairy!" He replied hotly, flushing. "I just don't think you should say nobody likes you when somebody does and just… quit with the whole 'Woe is me' attitude!"

The sharp edge to her words quickly dulled. "You're right. I should be grateful."

His own voice and posture quickly relaxed as he lost the will to fight. "Hermione, I didn't mean it that way."

There was a long pause, and then Hermione spoke hesitantly. "I'm sorry for calling you a fairy."

"You should be, you bloody well know that's a lie." Her startled gaze made him chuckle as he ran his fingers through one of her soft, silky tresses. He leaned closer until their faces were only inches apart and said, "After all, _you_ kissed _me_."

"That doesn't prove anything! Until you're the one kissing the girl you being a fairy is still debatable!" Hermione retorted laughingly, missing the wicked gleam that entered Cedric's eyes at the implied challenge.

"Oh? Is that so?' He tightened his grip around her and leaned in. "Guess I'll just have to kiss the girl then. To prove my non-fairy status and whatnot."

Comprehension dawned in her eyes at just what he was saying. "Umm, I don't… we really shouldn't… uh…"

He moved in even closer until their noses were almost touching. "What's holding you back?" The question was asked teasingly but Hermione's answer once she found her words was most definitely not.

It was at times like these that the Gryffindor 4th year wished she could keep her mouth shut. "It's not what's holding me back but who's holding you. And it isn't me."

Cedric closed his eyes and pulled back, the laughter and fun leaving the conversation. "I see."

"I will not be some sort of… scarlet woman!" She finished, moving out of the circle of his arms. Both missed the other for an instant, but quickly regained composure. "I deserve a… a real relationship! Not just… just something on the side!" She was both angry and heartbroken, because he was offering her something that she would not take and what she wanted he could not give.

"You're right. You deserve only the best." There was something so sad about the way his shoulders were slumped and his eyes were downcast, so defeated. "And the best is something I cannot give."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Then I guess this is the end of the road for us.'

The Hufflepuff 6th year suddenly found himself reduced to begging. "Hermione… please. Could I… kiss you? Just once?" He looked so handsome, kneeling in his dress robes before her that she smiled. The great Hogwarts Champion, reduced to pleading!

"Yes."

There was no romantic pause, no bating of breath, no shyness. Cedric moved forward instantly, capturing her lips with his own. What had been intended and begun as soft and sweet quickly turned passionate and fiery. Still, gentleman that he was, Cedric waited for Hermione to deepen the kiss. He had always believed in the idea of 'Ladies first.'

However, it was Cedric who broke the kiss many seconds later. Hermione must have had quite the pair of lungs to keep up with the athletic youth. Perhaps a product of shouting at Potter and Weasley…

They were both panting slightly and flushed with their 'exertions.' Then Cedric happened to glance at his wristwatch.

"Curses, it's almost midnight! We'd better get back!"

Hermione shot to her feet. "Come on!" She ordered and soon Cedric was racing after her, their robes billowing out behind them like wings as they rushed through corridors and down staircases.

They skidded into the Entrance Hall just in time, and Hermione straightened Cedric's tie (which she'd almost ripped off during their kiss) and he quickly pinned up her hair as best he could. They grinned foolishly at each other at what they were doing.

Cedric turned to leave first, knowing that reality (a.k.a. Cho) called, when Hermione reached out and tugged the sleeve of his robes in a manner he found endearing.

"I think I could be… umm… very happy with less. Than the best, I mean." He smiled at her shy 'confession.'

"Thank you Cedric. For everything." Her eyes looked up at him earnestly, so earnestly that he couldn't resist kissing her one last time. He kept it short and chaste this time, but judging by the way Hermione was blushing and the red he knew was creeping up his neck, the kiss had been rather romantic.

"It was my pleasure." And it was. It was the pleasure of that short, sweet, almost hour that kept him going for the next few weeks, that kept him going until the next time he happened on Hermione Granger alone.

Strange that those times always seemed to occur in a library.


	7. Chapter 7

**The first part of a three chapter update for tonight. And tomorrow I'll post the Valentine Special. That's why I haven't updated for so long... because I've been storing up all these chapters. So please, enjoy. And special thanks to all who reviewed!

* * *

**

She leaned back slightly as she walked, trying to keep the stack of books balanced. She really needed more research on House-Elf servitude if she was going to make her society work. Four members were not going to cut it, especially if they were not voluntary members. It also wasn't going to work well if she didn't read more, but that was hard as there was only a tiny section on the creatures even though they were such a large part of daily life. It was rather pathetic.

Hermione couldn't see where she was going. She quite literally had books piled up to her eyebrows and now she was just making her way along by feel and memory. The entire section of House-Elf history and information was in her capable hands, and luckily she had memorized the layout of the tables long before. It was going well.

Or at least it was until she collided with a bookcase that was _not_ supposed to be there.

"Oof!" The bookcase said as it fell over, and Hermione shouted as she lost control of her stack of books and they tumbled all over the floor.

"Miss Granger I have told you a thousand times not to stack your books that high!" Madam Pince's shrill voice and evil glare directed themselves at the Gryffindor 4th year, who immediately blushed and bent to pick up the fallen books.

"I'm sorry." Madam Pince glared for a moment longer, but then her expression suddenly softened as she looked at the young student.

"All right, but be more careful next time. And don't tell me it won't happen again, because I know it will."

Hermione smiled slightly at the gentle chastising and then ducked her head back down to concentrate on collecting her books, only to realize that someone was helping her. Probably the 'bookcase.'

She let the curtain that her hair created hide her face from whoever it was and focused on gathering the stack. Hopefully her flush would fade a bit, as well as her embarrassment. Then an all-too-familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Magnetism, right? That's what Muggles call it."

"I'm sorry?' She looked up, straight into the laughing eyes of Cedric Diggory.

"Magnetism is what they call it, right? When opposites attract?" He rose from his crouching position and extended a hand to her. "Up you get, Granger."

She recalled her science lessons from school. "Yes."

Cedric grinned crookedly as he pulled her off the ground. "Then it looks like we're just stuck with each other." His fake air of forced acceptance made her giggle.

"Oh sure it's not as terrible as you make it out to be." His grin turned wicked.

"Yes, I'm quite sure we could have some fun with it."

She scowled at him though her stomach had fluttered at the innuendo in his tone. He tweaked her chin. "Smile for me, Hermione. It's a beautiful day."

Hermione once more gathered up her books and was about to stagger off when two hands intercepted and snatched more than half of her pile.

"I'm _not_ stealing your books," he said exasperatedly at the evil glare she shot him. "I'm just trying to help you. So where would you like these?"

Still, she eyed him suspiciously, and finally he sighed before lowering his voice to a mere whisper.

"Are we not friends, then?" When she didn't reply, a sad expression crept over his face. "Did my kiss ruin everything?"

Still Hermione said nothing, her face frozen into a mask of uncertainty. Knowing he would not get a word out of her, Cedric placed the book she had snatched on a nearby table and turned to leave.

"Wait." The word escaped from her in a breathless tone that made him halt in his tracks. "Wait."

He didn't turn, and noticing this she sighed in frustration.

"It didn't ruin anything. On the contrary…" He awaited her next words with trepidation, holding his breath without even realizing that he did so.

"On the contrary, I'm afraid it started something that can't be stopped."

He looked at her then, intense eyes taking in her face, searching for some answer he sought. Apparently he found it as he grinned and kidnapped her books once more before saying cheerfully, "To the Gryffindor Common Room, milady?"

She smiled with relief at the end of the tense moment and curtsied as best she could with her arms full. "Lead on, milord."

He faked a sad expression and mournful tone. "Ah, good lady, it is my utter displeasure to inform you that I know not where thy common room lies."

"Thankfully I do, as with you in the lead, milord, we'd never get anywhere."

They continued down the hallway, teasing one another as Hermione led the way through the corridors.

"Now I know why men always let the ladies go up the stairs first," Cedric joked as he climbed them behind Hermione. "It's so they can get a closer look at their—"

Hermione whirled around and glared, causing Cedric to hastily improvise his last word.

"—feet?"

She glared at him, and he could have sworn that if her hands hadn't been occupied they would have been on her hips. Then again if his hands hadn't been full they would have been on her hips. Cedric quickly cut himself off from more such thoughts before his hands could actually start to move in that general direction. "Do not make me smacketh you, Mr. Diggory."

"Smacketh?" The incredulity and laughter in his voice at the improvised word made Hermione blush a little, but she held her ground and her books.

"Yes, smacketh. With a heavy book." She hefted a fairly heavy tome in one hand and pretended to take aim at his head. He ducked his head slightly, noticing and trying to figure how much strength she had to have in just her wrist to heft that piece of work. She would have made a great Chaser or a Beater depending on her aim and preference, he mused in the back of his mind as he laughed. So why had she never tried out for Quidditch?

"All right, all right, all right, I'll behave!"

Their laughter echoed through the corridors as they continued on their way to the Gryffindor Common Room and Cedric continued to think of ways to get her out on the Quidditch Pitch.


	8. Chapter 8

**Today's second and last chapter. I'm too tired to type up the third one. Anyway, this was based off a little thought I had while rereading Half Blood Prince. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, just the plot. I especially do not own any bit of the case discussed in this chapter.

* * *

**

"What are you reading?" He asked curiously after sitting down beside her. The library was fairly empty; no students and Madam Pince was off shelving or doing who knew what in who knew where.

"A book."

He deadpanned a look. "Really. I wouldn't have guessed."

She raised her head enough so that she could look at him over the top of the pages. "I thought you were smarter than that."

"It's called sarcasm, Granger. People often use it when annoyed or when they have just been told something they obviously knew."

"Really. I wouldn't have guessed."

"You know if this annoyed look stays on my handsome features any longer my face might fall off, and wouldn't that be a tragedy." She put down the book and glanced at him incredulously.

"A bit full of ourselves, are we?"

"No, only you Miss Hermione." He kept his face perfectly straight, though inside he was laughing over the outraged expression that crossed her face.

"Me? I haven't said a single egotistical thing this entire time!" Cedric suddenly grinned, knowing she was stepping into his trap.

"But isn't that a bit egotistical of you to claim that?"

Then it was her turn to shoot the deadpan looks as he examined the title of her book.

"A History of Servant Crimes?" he questioned, looking at her suddenly guarded expression. "Why are you reading this?"

She mumbled something so quickly and quietly that he didn't catch it. "What?"

She mumbled again but this time he leaned close enough to catch a few words. "It's for my society."

"A society? Oh wait, I've heard of this. Spew, right? The society for the promotion of elfish welfare?" He made a face at the name of it, and so did she.

"S." He frowned, not understanding what she was saying.

"P." He raised his eyebrows at her in confusion, wondering why she was grinding her teeth as she said the letters.

"E." He suddenly got what she was spelling.

"W." She finished, teeth still gritted. "It might not have been the best choice for a name but it was all I could think of at the time."

Cedric frowned. "Why not H. E. L. F? The House-Elf Liberation Front? It sounds like a combination between help and elf."

She scowled at the echoing of Ron's words. "So I didn't think of such a thing at the time. So sorry."

"Ah, c'mon Hermione. Don't be mad." He pinched her cheek in a grandmotherly fashion. "If you scowl like that for too long your face will be stuck that way."

She burst into laughter. "You've got a screw loose."

At his look of confusion she shook her head. "Never mind."

"So… what exactly were you looking for in this book?" Cedric changed the subject back to something he could understand.

"I wanted to know if the law treated House Elf criminals fairly. It's actually pretty interesting." Hermione bit her lip as she picked the book up and searched through it for the right section. "Here."

He took the book from her, realizing that she wanted him to read it. It turned out to be some sort of specific case report about a supposed House Elf criminal and actually was rather interesting. After finishing and rechecking the year it happened, he passed the book back over to Hermione, who took it with a raised eyebrow.

"What? I read faster than most people." She nodded at his explanation to her unanswered question and proceeded to change the subject.

"So, what do you think?"

Cedric slowly began to grin, and Hermione realized that what he was about to say would most definitely not be about House Elves. "Well, I think a lot of things," he said sheepishly, almost as if embarrassed to be admitting something. "I think it's a nice day outside, I think that we're all alone in here, and I think that the girl sitting in front of me is absolutely beautiful."

She blushed but did not look away. "I meant what do you think of the case?"

He shook his head, amused. "You know Granger you must be the only girl I know who'd rather hear what I think of a book than how beautiful I think they are."

She raised her eyebrows. "I wouldn't want to turn you into a liar."

His gray eyes bored into hers until she had to look away. "One day I'll prove to you how beautiful you are even if it means I have to tell you every single day for the rest of our lives."

Realizing that the subject made her uncomfortable, he quickly reshifted his focus to the book before them. "As for the chapter, it seems pretty straightforward. The House Elf, Hokey, she admitted to slipping poison to her owner."

Hermione smirked. She actually smirked, and the expression almost made Cedric laugh. It was a classic 'I know something you don't know' expression. Still, she probably knew more about this than he did so he waited quietly for her to speak.

She tapped her finger on the page. "You did note that two days before Hepzibah Smith died, she had a visitor, correct?"

He nodded. "Just some young man visiting an old lady. No harm in it, right?"

Her smirk became even more pronounced, though it remained entirely mirthless. "Well, that's what you'd think, right? I mean, the House Elf even admitted to the crime. Straightforward, like you said."

It was becoming more and more obvious that he must have overlooked something. "All right, what did I miss?"

She tapped her finger on the book. "What was the young man's name?"

Cedric narrowed his eyes at her. He disliked being led about in circles like this. "Tom Riddle. And it says here that he was a fine and upstanding young man."

He looked up just in time to see Hermione's face suddenly shift into a dark look before switching back into a more normal sort of lecturing face. "Well, I wouldn't call him a fine and upstanding young man, personally. But then again, back then, how would they have known?"

He tilted his head to the side and shook it. The circles weren't bothering him so much as what might lay in the center now. He had the instinct to stay far away from this answer. "You're not making any sense Hermione."

"And neither does this. Why would you suspect a House Elf of murder more than the man who would one day become…You-Know-Who?"

Cedric flinched, finally understanding. He glanced down at the book and then back up at Hermione, who seemed rather pale. "You-Know-Who's… name was Tom Riddle? Isn't he the one with all those special awards trophies for services to the school?"

She nodded and bit her lip before saying quietly, "I guess it just proves that not everybody who seems good and honest really is."

Cedric's voice cracked when he tried to speak. All he could choke out was one word. "Yeah… yeah."


	9. Chapter 9

**All right, so I didn't accomplish my goals for Valentine's (hides from angry reviewers. FORGIVE ME!) Anyway, this chapter... well... I originally had another one planned but when I actually typed it out it just didn't work. My problem with this new one is that it works, I'm just not sure if I want it to.**

* * *

Wandering the shelf hallways in the Hogwarts library was always highly entertaining for a girl like Hermione Granger. Especially when she ran into such good looking people like Cedric Diggory.

And especially when said wanderings ended in her snogging said boy on said library floor in said shelf hallway.

She wasn't sure how she kept getting into these positions with him. No wait, she knew exactly how this happened. It was just really hard to remember when he kept kissing her like that.

It had began with polite conversation… and then… the conversation had dulled… her thoughts were abruptly cut off when Cedric moved his lips to her neck and started a fire with them there.

And then the conversation had dulled… and then suddenly their eyes had met, stormy grey with fiery, passionate brown and it had been so unstoppable, so inevitable, and before she knew it they were here, laying on the floor, kissing like there was no tomorrow for either of them.

Hermione gasped suddenly, thanking the Founders for building a library with so many backshelves and dark corners. No one would find them here.

Something she was extremely glad for as she found herself moaning at the feeling of the 6th year's lips on her collarbone.

"My God, Granger, I don't know what it is about you but…" Cedric seemed to lose all semblance of sentence structure as he stared into Hermione's flushed face, his words whispered thickly in the silence surrounding them.

She cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face down to hers, enjoying the feel of his body tensing against hers.

"Cedric!" A high pitched voice shouted out, sounding more angry than shocked. "Cedric, what are you _doing_!"

Cedric and Hermione immediately sprang apart at the amazingly loud shout. Hermione winced at the sight of who'd caught them. Of all the people to catch them at this kind of thing, it had to be Cho Chang. Also known as resident rival and girlfriend of Cedric Diggory.

Cedric ran a hand through his tousled hair. "And the shit has hit the fan…"

The three looked at one another in silence for a very, very long moment until the standoff became far too awkward for Hermione. Finally, she grabbed her book bag and ran for it, trying to close her ears to the shouts that came from behind her. Little did she know that a full scale fight was escalating between the two Seekers, both over their cheating significant others.

"How _dare_ you cheat on me!" Cho's voice was quickly gaining volume into a full out scream.

Cedric countered with some information he'd had for a few weeks. "Oh, because it's more of a crime to snog someone than it is to sleep with them!"

Cho immediately flushed. "Well... well... well... I'm _not _breaking up with you!" The Ravenclaw stormed out of the library, furious that Cedric had found out about her night with Roger Davies.

Cedric sighed and covered his face with his hands. He'd managed to stop the fight for now, but it would only emerge even worse later.

His life was a _mess_. And he _still _couldn't perform a decent Bubblehead Charm.

_'Yup,'_ he reflected as he sat there. _'I am so screwed.'

* * *

_**Review please!**_  
_


	10. Chapter 10

I like this chapter. I think it does a good job of exploring Cedric's take on things. Anyway, the reviews are WONDERFUL! So encouraging! I'm writing this as much for you all as I am for... well, you all and myself!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The song Cedric hums is not based off of any particular song. Umm... that's about it.**

* * *

The Second Task had passed though the tension when Cedric had watched Cho revive once out of the water was unbearable. She couldn't seem to look at him, and when she did she kept breathing in loudly, huffy little breaths that sounded exasperated. The 6th year Hufflepuff shrugged to himself as he stood on the lakeshore with steam coming out of his ears. He couldn't believe that once he'd thought he'd loved her.

And the thing was, he realized, was that he still felt something. They'd been together for months, and he'd gotten used to having her around. He'd liked her, certainly. But now he wondered if he'd ever really loved her.

During the time of their relationship, he had never been able to say those words to her. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. She had uttered them so often, and with ease, and had looked so crestfallen when he hadn't replied in turn. It had broken his heart a little bit every single time he saw her face fall with disappointment, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't say those words.

He'd been thinking this just as Viktor Krum surfaced along with a sodden Hermione Granger. The abrupt feeling of relief from a pressure he hadn't realized had been weighing on him was mystifying. And it was such a great relief, that he broke out into a large grin.

Cho rounded on him instantly. "What are you smiling at?" She snapped, causing Cedric to snap out of his reverie.

"Ah, whuh? Ah—" His eyes lit on the first thing he thought of. "Cold."

Reading the incredulous look on her face, Cedric realized he hadn't given a satisfactory answer. "I mean, ah, the cold… is, uh, umm… refreshing?"

He breathed a sigh of relief as Cho's angry expression faded away from her face and was instead replaced with a thoughtful one. "It feels great to be out of the water."

He sighed slightly at how tense and formal their conversation was. It never should have been this way.

But people change. They gain new experiences. And judging by the sight of a brunette Ravenclaw Quidditch player in the stands and a bushy-haired, soaked Gryffindor standing with Krum, their conversation would be this way from now on.

Because the sad part of it all, Cedric realized, was that things had to change, because the alternative was far worse.

Four thrown items, one broken quill, and a few red handprints later, Cedric and Cho were no longer together. After much debate (and lots of violence on Cho's part) they had decided to keep the separation fairly quiet and just go their own ways.

Once she had calmed down, Cho was actually very reasonable about it, explaining that she understood and that she did feel bad for what happened between her and Roger. As she apologized, Cedric saw the spark in her, the girl that he had liked so much, and for a moment his heart screamed that he was doing the wrong thing. It was then that he was grateful for his mind, which kept him in control. If they had decided to remain together, neither of them would have been happy. They would have eventually hated one another. Better to end it now, on better terms than hatred.

Still, yet another 3 handprints to add to his collection. And it was the first time he'd been hit upside the head with a textbook. The ringing in his ears was actually starting to sound like a tune. Da da da, da da da, doodley da da da.

He didn't realize where he was walking until he was ten feet away from the library entrance. He froze then, uncertain. His heart wanted him to go get comfort from the girl who was _surely in there_, but his mind told him that it would not be taken well if he were to go to her right after breaking up with Cho. He didn't want to be the kind of guy who immediately got a new girl after ditching one. It wasn't right.

So he'd wait. He had a week to spare. Heck, even a month wouldn't be bad. It would be better to make sure that he rid himself of all things Cho-relationship related before going into a new one.

And if Hermione didn't want a new relationship just then, he could wait even longer. After all, he was 17 years old. He had all the time in the world.

Then he caught sight of a familiar man with a duck-footed walk and a crooked nose. Krum. Hermione had said that she and Krum were just friends, but judging by what he'd overheard by the lakeside, Krum certainly didn't seem to think that way.

A sick feeling rose inside of him, one he recognized to be jealousy. It was strange. When he'd caught Cho with Davies, he'd been angry, yes, but more at her hypocrisy rather than what she did. Yet with Hermione… he found himself extremely jealous of the Bulgarian Seeker's forwardness. It was as if the newcomer believed he had the right to ask such things of the Gryffindor.

He realized he'd been standing there for the past five minutes staring at nothing. No wonder those two first years were pointing and whispering. He must look crazy.

"I am crazy," he muttered as he stalked away.

* * *

**I love reviews.**  



	11. Chapter 11

**I apologize for the long wait on the update! I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's pretty light on the action sight, so children need not avert thine eyes. I could probably drop the rating for this story so far. I'm just not into going into that much detail about kissing and stuff. But I will. For the enjoyment of the readers I will.**

* * *

She hadn't seen him for days.

Normally she wouldn't care if she didn't see a mere acquaintance every day. But Cedric was so much more than that. It was like she'd been asleep all her life, and then when she'd met him she'd woken up. The world seemed so much sharper and clearer now. And what seemed even more sharp was when he was absent… it was as if he left a gaping hole that couldn't be filled by just walls or other people.

Which was why she was sitting at her favorite table, staring idly at a book but not taking in a word. Her eyes would flick up to glance at every person who entered the room and then flick down again, disappointed that he hadn't arrived.

Where was he?

Cedric wasn't the type to avoid a girl. He wasn't the type to play hard to get either. Hermione didn't really know him that well, but she did know that. With Cedric, what you saw was what you got. If there were any acts or facades in his life, they existed not because of some stupid game he tried to play but because he believed they were necessary. Or because he didn't feel like talking about that particular part of his life.

"Hermy-own-ninny." A voice behind her made her shiver, then giggle. Though the name sounded right, it was missing the accent that made it sound so silly.

"Cedric." Her own voice sounded angrier than she intended, and she could practically sense his confusion. "Sit down."

It was obvious that he was unused to having people younger than him tell him what to do. Well too bad. She had some words to say to him. "What's going on—?" She cut him off.

"You don't speak to me for days. You disappear. Are you avoiding me, or what?" She was shocked at the words pouring out. She hadn't meant to scold him, just to tease him a little for pulling a disappearing act. But somehow the words she had intended to say had changed, had come out differently.

"I, umm, I—…" She cut him off again.

"I can understand if you don't want to be with me, okay? But I thought we were _friends_. And friends don't disappear for days without a word. Friends don't avoid each other, or if they do then usually they at least both have a general idea of why it's happening. So tell me, what did I do wrong?" She could feel tears starting to brim up, and cursed her past few stressful days. That was part of the reason she'd noticed his absence so much. She'd been looking for someone to comfort her, and it was becoming more and more glaringly obvious that Harry and Ron just weren't fit for that job. They didn't have the maturity to handle emotions yet.

Hermione sighed suddenly. She was a grave robber. She was after older guys. Not that old, but still, older.

Her mother had lectured her about older guys, actually. This had been after her mother had seen Oliver Wood at Platform 9 and ¾. The lecture had taken hours, about the tricks of older guys and whatnot. If her mother could meet Cedric though, Hermione was certain that the thought of another such lecture would be out the window. He was just so kind and wonderful.

"Hermione, look, you've got it all wrong." He held up his hands in a placating gesture, laughing slightly. "I was just busy, and also I didn't want to end up causing rumors about us. I'm sorry." The look in his eyes was still amused and yet honest at the same time.

Somehow that simple and sincere apology did more for her than any amount of begging or excuses could have. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to accuse you or anything."

The smile he gave her was warm. "Would you like to…umm…"

She quirked an eyebrow at him, glad to see him feeling as nervous as she was at the sudden question.

"Would you like to…umm… go outside?" He blurted the first thing that came to his mind, and then felt his face reddening. Hermione's face dropped slightly then regained its usual expression. He had disappointed her with his question. She'd been hoping for something else.

"Well, yes, I suppose." She stood, gathering up her book bag and a stack of new books.

"Without the books." She stopped at his statement and turned around as if she could not believe her ears.

"What?" He stepped closer; prying the books out of her hold and placing them back on the table.

"You heard me. Come on. It's a nice day." And then, ignoring her protests about studying and homework, he captured her hand and dragged her off.

Madam Pince looked up then, being careful to make sure they were gone before smiling. She could still hear the girl's complaints as they walked (in Cedric's case) or were dragged (in Hermione's case) away. It was good that someone had taken an interest in the girl. Life wasn't meant to be spent amidst dust and paper.

She snorted softly at her thoughts. So ironic for a librarian to say that. Her entire life was dust and paper. But it didn't have to be that way for Hermione Granger. She was still young, and it was good that she was getting out and having fun.

Still, she knew that Cedric was good for Hermione, and that she in turn was good for him. When it came to them it all came in full circle. It was as if they completed one another. Maybe they were in love.

Again the librarian snorted. "I've been reading one too many fairy tales," she decided. "One too many."


	12. Chapter 12

**I checked canon and this is about the right time for all this stuff (in the chapter) to happen, so say, early March for this chapter. We're running out of time for the end, huh? Only three months until we find out whether Cedric lives or dies... (slaps self for being a bad author and trying to bring suspense to story) Anyway, I'd like to send out a big thanks for all the reviews and say these words. **

**OMG I HAVE ALMOST 200 REVIEWS ON THIS STORY! THANK YOU ALL SO, SO, SO MUCH! YOU'RE ALL WONDERFUL! And as a celebration for 200 reviews, we'll do a cameo appearance for the 200th reviewer. So, if it's you I'll PM you and ask for what you'd like your cameo appearance to look like and what name you'd want the character to have. And if it's not you this time, don't worry. I'll be doing this more and more, especially cause the coming chapters need extra characters!**

**So enjoy this chapter, and forgive the long author's note! Disclaimer: I don't own these people. I own the storyline. Sweeet.**

* * *

"No wonder people think I'm kind of creepy," he mused to himself. "I'm watching people from behind a bookcase." 

Well, not people. More like person. One person to be exact. And she sat almost directly in front of him, back to him, keeping her head buried in a book as another person stopped by to pester her about that article Rita Skeeter had written. No _wonder_ she'd been upset the past few days! There had been insults, bubotuber pus, curses, Howlers, and more things than he'd probably want to think about.

He watched as her dark curly hair seemed to bristle with indignation as someone made a snide passing comment. He then observed with interest how she would freeze after hearing the comment, and then pretend to read. She wasn't really reading, though. She hadn't turned the page in more than an hour.

He leaned his head against one of the thick, oak shelves as he continued to watch. His poor girl, out there all by herself trying to fend off the wolves. He should help, he knew, but he also knew that while he could comfort her he could also only give rise to new insults. What Rita Skeeter didn't know, Cedric thought with a smile, was just how many Champions Hermione was supposedly after.

His lovely girl, his lovely, lovely girl was out there alone. And he just couldn't have that, now could he?

He pulled a scrap of parchment out of his bag and quickly got his quill ready. _Hermione,_ he wrote. _Meet me by our window._ _Love, Pretty Boy._ There, he smiled. That should do the trick. Hopefully she knew the place he meant, the place they'd gone to talk before. The place where she'd kissed him. He liked it, that little alcove. Plus, it offered absolute privacy, which even when outside was not guaranteed.

With a quick charm he sent the parchment fluttering over to Hermione and then stole away, sliding through the mazes of shelves with an ease and speed he hadn't known he'd possessed. Well, for his girl, it was obvious he'd be able to do anything.

His girl. He liked the sound of that. Because, in a way, she was utterly and irrevocably his. She hadn't realized it yet but he was lost on her. She'd long since taken his heart and he found that he didn't mind it at all. She was something special in his life, and he knew without a doubt that he wanted there for a long time, maybe for good.

"I'm seventeen years old. I can't be thinking about getting married! That's something I should be doing when I'm twenty-four or something!" He laughed at himself as he continued his navigation of the library.

He finally burst into the little area and was surprised to find her already there; sitting primly on the desk, legs crossed and hands in her lap. She looked up at him then, surprise warring with affection in her eyes and then she smiled and he thought for sure his heart had stopped.

"I was waiting for you." She hopped off the desk and walked slowly over to hug him around his waist. He enfolded her in his arms, noting how small and yet how perfectly she was in his arms.

"I missed you," he told her, and she leaned back to smile up at him once again, wonder in her eyes.

"I needed help, and there you were, right when I most needed you." He couldn't help but close his eyes at the pain and affection in her voice, beautifully entwined.

"Tell me about it." So she did, and he held her through the tears of frustration and embarrassment and anger. And as she ranted and he listened, he realized for the first time this feeling was.

It felt like home.

Hermione sighed, exhausted after their long talk. "You know, if Rita Skeeter saw us like this there'd either be another article about me or one about you."

Cedric managed to keep a straight face as he looked down at her and replied, "Just what I've been wanting."

She mock glared at him, but the smile threatening to break out on her face won over and she grinned. "If only Rita Skeeter knew what a shockingly shameful life Cedric Diggory led. Why, I'm sure she'd stalk you for more scoop!"

He winced at the thought. "Please, no. Although it does make me wonder what she'd think of you, going out with yet _another_ Triwizard Champion! And another Quidditch player! It's absolutely scandalous! A love rectangle! What next, Miss Granger? Going to include Fleur in this too to make it a pentagon?" He waggled his eyebrows salaciously at her and she gaped with outrage.

"Why you--! You horrid little--!" She seemed to be unable to finish a sentence, and he teased her about it.

"Cat got your tongue? Or can I have it?"

She snorted and smirked at him. "You wish, Diggory. You wish." The two leaned against one another in comfortable silence, both smiling.

After some time had passed of just silence and thinking, Cedric felt Hermione shift against him. "What is it?" he asked, only to be rewarded with a dazzling grin. Her teeth had turned out well after they'd been cursed.

"If only Rita Skeeter knew…" she trailed off as he laughed.

"Thank Merlin she doesn't! Anyway, you'd better get back to your books otherwise someone might get suspicious." His thoughts had honed in on a Bulgarian face that he sometimes had the urge to punch, usually after the man had been a little too forward with Hermione.

"See you soon, Cedric." Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the lips and turned to walk away before stopping.

"What is it?" He stared at her back as she stood, absolutely frozen in place it seemed.

And before he knew it she'd launched herself at him and was kissing him, taking advantage of his still open mouth to overwhelm and conquer. Still, he managed to mount a fairly good force for his counterattack, one that left both of them slightly breathless and smiling through slightly swollen lips.

"Cat got your tongue, Cedric? Or can I have it?" She snarled at him playfully before darting away through the maze of shelves.

He laughed. This was going to be a fun evening.


	13. Chapter 13

**Wow, it's been awhile since I've updated. This chapter doesn't contain a lot of C/H in it, any mention of them is in photographs. And the thing about the assistant in the beginning is just to show Rita's character, so I hope that isn't too confusing. It's not a part of the plot. I'd like to say, thanks so much for all the reviews and I really hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I would weep with joy and buy my own snow cone machine and hire someone to make me snowcones every day. Since I currently have no snowcone nor am I weeping with joy it is safe to assume that I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

Chapter 13**

Rita Skeeter sat perfectly still in her chair, lightly sucking the tip of her quill. It was moments like this, she decided, that made her job worth it. Discovering that juicy little secret, ferreting out the truth, uncovering the lies, and when it suited her, weaving a few lies of her own. Sometimes she really thought her Animagus form should have been a spider, but a beetle was fine in its own way. She always got the… buzz… after all.

She laughed, a short bark of a laugh that quickly subsided when her assistant rushed over. "Do you need something?" the plain sprout of a young woman asked.

Rita smiled, knowing that it wasn't a pleasant smile. She hadn't smiled pleasantly since girlhood. "No, I'm fine." The plain woman walked away, and Rita bit the top of her quill again, reviewing in her mind what secrets she knew about her. Rita knew about everyone who worked for the Daily Prophet. She didn't keep a file system, much like one might have guessed. Her mind naturally kept track of the seemingly insignificant little details that really made all the difference. Take her new assistant, for example. The one whose name she honestly couldn't remember and honestly couldn't care less.

Miss Assistant was screwing the boss, but the boss had a wife. Thus, problem. Even bigger problem, Miss Assistant didn't know the boss had a wife. Rita knew that it would all come out eventually, and when it did she knew she would be the first on the scene to get the story. She could see the headlines now. SCANDAL! DAILY PROPHET PUBLISHER CAUGHT CHEATING ON WIFE! ADULTERY WITH AN ASSISTANT! Just the thought of the words, published for millions to see, made her shiver with anticipation. She lived for her work.

Thinking of scandal, she turned her attention and eyes to the pictures laid out on her desk. They had been taken at Hogwarts over the year and last week she had found out something very interesting. Little Miss Know-It-All Hermione Granger was secretly going out with Cedric Diggory. Now normally this sort of news would not be interesting, except for the fact that Hermione Granger was the best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived, was publicly dating the famous Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum, and was now also involved with yet another Triwizard Champion. Just last week Rita had been very pleased with the way her article about Granger had turned out, knowing it would hurt the girl. A day after the publication she had hid in the library and watched the girl cry her eyes out on Diggory's shoulder. But somehow these pictures didn't seem to fit what was going on.

Yes, she had shots of the tears, and then of the snogging the two had done. But she also had pictures of their other interactions, moments she had seen them working together or talking together or laughing together. And then Rita had gone back, searching her files for all the pictures of Cedric Diggory she had. And this was what she'd found.

The Quidditch World Cup. There was a shot of Amos and Cedric talking to the Weasley clan, with Hermione and Harry on the side. Surprisingly, Hermione wasn't looking at any of the boys in the picture; instead she was staring off to the side. It was _Cedric_ who was watching her.

The first task. There was the shot she'd gotten of Potter and the girl together, when Hermione had hugged him. But there was something about that picture that didn't quite speak of a romantic relationship between them. Rita couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew just by looking that there was no romantic involvement between Granger and Potter and there never had been. There were other shots of the first task, but she focused on the only one that had Cedric and Hermione in it together at the same time. This time, their images were standing closer together, Hermione smiling as she wished the Hufflepuff luck and Diggory reaching his hand out, almost as if he was about to ask something but then deciding against it.

The Yule Ball. Rita had sneaked in as a beetle, equipped with a special camera she'd had made for her, so she could take shots with her small size. She'd gotten a photo of the Champions standing by the doorways and then eating dinner, nothing special there although the blush on Granger's face as she and Diggory talked was interesting. Then the dance shots, again nothing too special except for the one where the two couples had swirled by each other and in an instant's luck Rita's camera had captured the image of Cedric and Hermione looking away from their partners to meet each others' eyes.

The second task. There were no shots of the two together, but the separate shots of them more than made up for it. Hermione and Viktor Krum stood together, Viktor talking quietly to her as Hermione stared off into space, attentive yet not attracted, Rita realized. She'd ordered the photographer to get shots of the people on the shore, not the lake water as the reflective, rippling surface made for a bad image, especially in wizard photos. That was how she'd come across this shot.

Cedric was standing beside Cho, and she was holding onto his arm as she looked up at him, chattering on about something. But the look on Cedric's face told a story the close up image didn't: the worry etched across his features said that Hermione hadn't made it out of the lake yet.

Then there was the next shot on her desk, the one slightly covered by the Hermione and Viktor one. It was of Cedric and Cho again, in the same position, with the pretty Asian girl still chattering away. But this time his expression was different. He was laughing and smiling, with pure relief written in every line of his posture. Interesting indeed.

There were several conclusions she could draw, based on these shots. One, Hermione's lust for fame hadn't been satisfied by Krum and Potter alone. Rita quickly dismissed that, knowing that Granger wasn't out for fame. Two, Granger had never been after Potter or Krum. The first was evidenced in the photos, but the latter would be difficult to agree with. Three, something was going on here that Rita didn't understand. She nodded. She could accept that, after all, Rita Skeeter, ace reporter, always ferreted out the truth. She would understand soon enough.

Now the all-important question was the article. Information such as this deserved an article, and she couldn't very well disappoint her fans at Witch Weekly now could she? But timing was the key. She'd just released an article about the girl last week, another one too soon could make others doubt her reliability as a reporter. This new gossip would have to wait.

She twirled her quill slowly, thinking out the details. More pictures would be good, plus more information. These things would require more investigation, as well as more time. As Rita didn't quite yet understand the dynamic between the couple, she knew she'd have to put off writing the article until she did. She'd already made the mistake of not examining Granger and Potter's relationship, and refused to repeat the same mistake. Before she had not analyzed because she had merely written to hurt, but now she wanted the truth, plain and simple.

As for timing... an idea formed in Rita's mind. She could write it right after the tournament was won! Then there would be the most uproar over the scandal, the most publicity. She clicked her fingernails against the desk, admiring the lurid green nail polish. It was decided then. She would expose Cedric Diggory and Hermione Granger's secret relationship right after the end of the tournament.

She simpered at the pictures on her desk. Sometimes she felt as if the people in them were her playthings and she was the child who controlled and manipulated every instance of their lives. What could she say? The press had more power than most people realized.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm fairly pleased with the way this has turned out. Pottersgirl91, the 200th reviewer, makes a cameo appearance in this chapter as Megan! I hope I did well with it.  
**

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! They make me feel sincerely special and they really encourage me to update, knowing that so many people want to know what's going to happen next!**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter. Because if I did, the guy who played Remus Lupin in the third movie would have been hot.**

* * *

** Chapter 14**

"Hey, Hermione!" She turned, curious as to why fifth year Hufflepuff Megan Parker, also known as Seamus' girl for this month, was calling for her. The fifth year in question was dashing down the hallway towards Hermione, and barely managed to skid to a halt in time.

"What's wrong?" Hermione raised her eyebrows and adjusted the strap of her book bag, where it was digging into her shoulder. The out of breath Hufflepuff took her time in replying.

"Just… ran down here from Trelawney's. She's been making her predictions, you know?" Hermione nodded, she did know. "Well, she made a really creepy one..." the girl trailed off, and Hermione stared wildly down into forest green eyes in horror. Megan looked up from her bent over position and slowly straightened. "A really, really creepy one."

She'd never been one to do things on impulse. Especially when Professor Trelawney was involved. But there was something in Megan's voice that spoke of more than just the usual "I sense grim things in your future!" that Trelawney usually spouted off. There was something in her voice that told Hermione that she didn't want to know the truth, but that she had to.

Fearing the answer, Hermione asked, "How did she say it?"

Megan shook her head from side to side, something many people were known to do after emerging from Trelawney's seedy opium attic den. "She went on about how the prize would lead to doom on the night of glory and how the Dark Lord would rise again and how the bone of the father, blood of the enemy, on and on like that."

The cold seeds of dread took root in her belly, and Hermione steadied herself enough to repeat her question. "I meant how did she say it, not what did she say."

"Oh, that." With a shrug of carelessness, the brunette fifth year answered. "Her voice got all authoritative and deep. It was weird."

Hermione found it very hard to breathe in those next few moments. It was just like how Harry had described Trelawney's prediction about Sirius in their third year. What could Voldemort be planning this time?

"The creepiest thing was, she made the prediction about Cedric."

An icy hand gripped Hermione's heart. "Where is he?"

The look of pity Megan shot her made Hermione realize that Megan knew about their relationship. But she had no more time to think on things like this.

"He's up in the North Tower still, on one of the landings."

Hermione was off, not waiting to hear whatever else Megan might tell her. She left so quickly that she forgot her book bag, but the Hufflepuff understood why. She watched the fourth year Gryffindor sprint down the hall toward one of the moving staircases, knowing exactly why she went so quickly and urging her to move even faster. "Ah, Hermione, I don't think you quite understand how much he needs you right now."

* * *

She was out of breath by the time she reached the correct floor, and the stitch in her side was really starting to ache by the time she reached the correct corridor. By the time she was bounding up the north tower's stairs, she felt like if she moved any farther she was going to die. But still she took the stairs two at a time, hauling herself up with the sheer power of what seemed to her to be almost insanity. She would get to Cedric or die trying. 

She was rounding one of the many landings when suddenly she collided into something that shouted "Oof!" and fell backwards. She tripped and landed on it, causing it to make another odd sound in distress. For a moment Hermione just lay there, desperately trying to breathe as her entire body screamed for more air. Judging by the nonexistent attempts to move her, the person she was lying on could only be Cedric. Hermione allowed herself to relax, resting her head on his chest as she tried to catch her breath.

She'd just about succeeded when his arms came up and around her, pulling her tightly against him. She squeaked at the sudden pressure but did not struggle, knowing he needed comfort right then. They lay like that, holding one another, until finally he spoke.

"Can we sit up? My back's getting a little sore."

She rolled off of him and he carefully sat up, wincing slightly. There was going to be a large bruise on his back come morning, but right now that didn't matter. He just needed some reassurance.

It came in the form of hardheaded, stubborn mouthed Granger. "That old bat is a fraud!" she cried, and he took her small hand in his own.

"I know, Granger, I know." But Hermione knew he was still worried. Whatever Trelawney had said had shaken him badly. It was obvious in just the way he had held her. "Who told you I was up here?"

"Megan." Cedric chucked quietly, both of them keeping their voices low, neither quite knowing why.

"Leave it to a childhood friend to come to my rescue," he mused, and smiled. "But how would she know that… of course."

Hermione was confused, not just by the way Cedric had suddenly answered his own question, but as to what the answer to the question was. Seeing the confused look on her flushed face, he grinned slightly and answered it for her.

"Megan's a seer." Seeing Hermione's skeptical face, he laughed. "No, not a fraud like Trelawney, but the real deal. It made playing those childhood chance games with her pretty lousy, but she's saved my butt loads of times. She can see people's futures, and she knew we were both going to end up in Hufflepuff before we even got our Hogwarts letters. I asked her to tell my fortune once."

Hermione tensed up at this, knowing that if the fortune in any way matched up with the prediction that Cedric might be in serious trouble.

"She told me I was going to be happy. That I'd be satisfied with my life, that I'd be good and kind and fair and strong. That I'd be honorable and make people happy. She told me that I would have everything I ever wanted right before I died, and that though I'd be terrified I'd go out with a smile on my face."

Hermione lost her temper right then. How dare you tell someone how they were going to die? She raged at the brunette fifth year for knowing how people would die, the when and where and what. For daring to tell people how it was going to end. But in an instant her rage cooled, for she realized that knowing how your friends were going to die couldn't be something one wished for.

"I asked her more about it." Cedric said, still talking in spite of a lack of response from Hermione. "She told me it wasn't right for me to know. That it would just hurt me." He put no inflection on his words, not speaking in monotone yet keeping his voice neutral.

She nodded, understanding all in a rush how true seers must feel, knowing the future. Cedric's hand gripped hers harder for a second before releasing it.

"I just wanted to know, so I didn't have to worry about it. So I could just look at whatever life threw my way and say, 'This isn't going to kill me.' I wanted the perspective it would give me; I wanted to know. Do you think that was wrong of me?" His voice had been kept carefully level and under control, the tone sounding merely curious. "Do you think that was wrong of me, to ask my friend to tell me how I was going to die?"

She shuddered. To have a gift like that... she knew she personally would not be able to bear it. She wasn't strong enough to handle knowing people's futures. It was one of the things that had driven her away from Divination, and it had made certain that she was never going to explore the possibilities of Time-Turners and the future. Sometimes too much knowledge was a bad thing. In this sort of case it was terrible.

Hermione couldn't answer his question right then. So she laid her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her, and they sat like that until the next set of classes began. If Cedric believed what Trelawney had said he didn't say so, yet even after she left Hermione still knew he was worried. And rightly so; the next task was in two months.

The night of glory was approaching.

* * *

**Please review! Thank you!**  



	15. Chapter 15

**To anyone who actually reads this new chapter-- thank you for staying with the story. I have several excuses for the long delay, but hopefully none of those will come up again until this story is done. My apologies again for the long wait, and I hope this chapter makes up for it. Originally it was longer but I took part of it to start off Chapter 16.**

* * *

The Easter egg sitting in her hands was pathetically small, tiny really, in comparison to the dragon eggs Ron and Harry had received. Maybe it was rude to have expected more, after all, Mrs. Weasley had no obligation to her, but the older woman had always been so kind and generous. 

It was the article. Hermione grimaced as she flipped through another tome on invisibility. So far very few of the possibilities she'd written down had been crossed off; officially only invisibility cloak had been proven entirely out of the question. And more options for how Rita got her information were being discovered every day.

There were tons of invisibility spells, although they were generally quick spells and only meant to last for a few minutes. There were a few potions as well, though most were again not meant for a long period of time. Being an animagus had been crossed off, though with a question mark. The list of animagi had been a few years out of date, just long enough for one or two more to have been added. It was possible Rita could have been registered after the book was published. Then there were even more possibilities what with transformations: Polyjuice Potion, transfiguration spells, being a Metamorphmagus…

She needed more clues. So far she had nothing other than the knowledge that Rita had been on Hogwarts grounds when she was not supposed to, and not only that but no one had seen her other than Slytherins. And that the reporter had been close enough to Hermione to hear a quiet conversation. It was the only thing she had to go on. With a sigh she closed her eyes and tried to review the mental picture she had of that day.

Arms wrapped around her and someone rested their chin on the top of her head. She smiled. "Hello, Cedric."

"What are you reading?" He flipped the book closed, ignoring the outraged gasp that came from her. "Recognizing the Unseen? That can't be for class work; you don't start learning stuff like that until you hit sixth year."

She shrugged him off, frantically flipping pages back to her place in the book. "You're lucky I happened to glance at my page before you closed it," she informed him with an icy tone. "I need to read this."

"What on earth would you need—ah, I should have known. Please tell me you're not still on about that Skeeter woman."

At his searching glance, Hermione looked away. "And so what if I am?" she said, eyeing her list.

"C'mon, Hermione, just drop it. She's just a reporter. You're not the only one who's been written about, so why are you acting like this?"

"Because something needs to be done about her! She's been allowed free-rein and she goes about breaking rules and saying untruthful things and listening in on people's private conversations—"

"Somehow I doubt you dislike her just because she breaks rules. Or even because of what she said about you and Harry. Anyone with half a brain knows that you and Potter are like siblings. And as for the listening-in on people's conversations…oh."

"What?" She turned to look at him, but he was staring off at one of the bookshelves, his eyes gone a rather odd shade of stormy gray.

"It was because of that private conversation, right? The one with Viktor."

"I—" Cedric raised his eyebrows as his eyes sought out hers, and she found that she couldn't say anything, because it was true. Rita had struck out meaning to hurt her by bringing up something secret, something that she hadn't wanted to get out.

"I see. Hey, I have to get going. There's a meeting about the Tournament and I've got to go get ready for it." He started to walk away.

"Cedric!" He half-turned and smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I'll talk to you later, all right?" And then he was gone, turned the corner of that aisle of shelves and out of sight.

Hermione glanced at the spot he'd occupied previously, then back at the tome. When all was said and done, she still had work to do.

* * *

_'What have they done to my Quidditch field?' _Cedric eyed the once grassy space in horror. Now bushes not even taller than him covered it, criss-crossing it like a madman's depiction of a chessboard. Harry stooped beside him, examining the closest one to them. But Cedric wanted nothing to do with them, taking a step back even as a figure in the middle of the field called out to them. 

"Hello there!" Ludo Bagman was already in the center with Fleur and Krum. Cedric began to make his way over, noticing that Harry kept pace with him as he clambered over the low annoyances now sprouting out of his beloved place. After they climbed over the last hedge Bagman started in again.

"Well, what d'you think? Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high." Evidently Bagman must have caught wind of the death glare Cedric was shooting him, because he twisted his mouth into a placating grin. "Don't worry, you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

Apparently neither Harry nor Fleur was going to gratify the overly cheerful commentator with a response. Krum was the only one left to do it, and he did it in style, Cedric believed. "Maze," he grunted.

"That's right!" Bagman practically shouted, as if they were contestants on one of those shows on the Muggle telly. "A maze!" With all the manner of an eager to please puppy, bagman continued with his explanation. Recognizing the basics of the task, Cedric tuned out. At the mention of Hagrid providing creatures for the task, he almost considered resigning from the tournament. Really, with all the NEWTs and career decisions he had to make, this was getting to be too much.

Bagman's voice trailed off, and with a start Cedric realized the briefing was over. _'Excellent. I have better things to be doing with my time.' _He thought of Hermione and the library, and wanted to be up there again. He was still frustrated with her, yes, but somehow this didn't register with the rest of him. He wanted to kiss her senseless, senseless enough that she would forget all about Rita Skeeter and Viktor Krum and all that other rubbish. And maybe do other things to help her concentrate solely on him.

_'She's only fifteen. Fifteen! I can't be thinking about her like this. I can't. Even if she is rather mature for her age. Even if she would look rather good with--no!'_

Cedric shook his head and contemplated ducking his head in the lake, which would certainly be freezing as the outside temperature was chilly. Maybe the shock would do him some good.

As another image of Hermione surfaced in his mind, Cedric groaned. Maybe drowning would do him some good. At least the merpeople would get a kick out of it.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and hopefully you'll be back for Chapter 16!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Welcome to the sixteenth chapter of Love in the Library! I'd like to thank everyone who read and especially everyone who reviewed - the encouragement really helps me when I just don't feel like writing anything. I hope you all will enjoy this chapter, and especially the addition of Harry's part. I've neglected the poor boy for far too long, but you have to admit that he gets a lot of attention. Six entire books (soon to be seven!!!) and thousands of fanfics and pieces of fanart... yes, Harry does get a lot of lovin'.**

**I think you all understand what I mean when I say the approach of July 21st makes me both happy and sad, because I want to read the seventh book but I also don't want the series to end.  
**

** Sigh. Well, on to the chapter.**

* * *

An excellent student by nature, Hermione was the last person to daydream her way through the History of Magic class the following day. Having spent a large majority of the night and early morning discussing and thinking about the attack on Crouch and Viktor, she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into her large four poster and sleep the rest of the day. Not only was there classwork to do, but also work for SPEW and preparation for the third task with Harry. She didn't know when Cedric would want to prepare, if he wanted to prepare with her at all. This whole relationship thing was more complicated than the rest of the world made it look. 

She'd been working so hard to put all the clues together, to try to figure out what was going on before it got Harry killed, or expelled. She'd felt she'd failed the moment he'd been chosen as the tournament's fourth champion. For the past four years it had been plain that her boys couldn't keep out of trouble themselves, so she'd have to take care of that for them, and this time she had failed. Just like the past years, actually. Harry seemed to attract trouble more than any other person she knew.

She just had to think, she was sure of it. Somehow they all had to fit--the dark mark at the Quidditch World Cup, the figure who cast it, Winky, the goblet, Harry being chosen, Rita Skeeter, Rita Skeeter's Slytherin informants, Ludo Bagman, Mr. Crouch, and whoever the twins were blackmailing. They'd caught the twins only this morning mailing off a letter. Normally Hermione would have passed it off as yet another prank, but they'd been so serious about it this time. She was certain there was more to it than just the joke shop idea.

One way or another all of these pieces had relevance to the puzzle that was this year at Hogwarts. To her it seemed like one of those word problems in the math textbooks she studied over the summer. All the information was there, but the equation to make them all fit together wasn't present. It frustrated her.

And it didn't help that she was worried about Cedric.

She hadn't meant to obsess over Rita Skeeter, but it really had bothered her. And not just because of Viktor--what if one day Rita overheard a conversation of hers and Cedric's? She was dangerous because there was no limit to what she could do. Hermione needed to know how she worked, how she gained her information, so she could safeguard against it. One day of bubotuber pus covered hands had been enough for one lifetime.

Speaking of lifetimes… she tuned back in to the drone of Professor Binns' voice. Was it too much to hope for him to retire?

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Harry wasn't as clueless as many assumed he was. He knew the tournament was an attempt to end his life, had guessed it rather quickly. It made sense--only Voldemort would go to that much trouble and create a plan that convoluted in order to kill him. He knew what was going on with his friends, Hermione's 'secret' relationship with Cedric, and Ron's 'secret' crush on Hermione. He'd thought about doing something about all of these things, and ended up leaving them alone. It wasn't his business, after all. 

Or at least it hadn't been until Cedric had made it his business.

Hermione had been out of it all day, not an unusual thing for a girl who was always deep in thought, but she hadn't even taken notes in History of Magic. It was then that Harry knew something was wrong, after all, Hermione spent so much time lecturing him and Ron about the class that she knew if she slacked off in it they'd never let her hear the end of it. The events of the past few days--the past year, in fact-- had been troubling, but Hermione hadn't been this distracted at any other time, pointing to the involvement of outside forces. Cedric.

He didn't disapprove of the relationship, but he wasn't so sure he approved, either. Perhaps a little chat with the older boy would help him decide.

* * *

Luckily he'd found the other champion fairly quickly. "Hey, Cedric, could I have a minute?" Harry called, and immediately flushed as the older boy's friends turned as well. His blush darkened as they began to whisper, undoubtedly about him. 

"Yeah, guys, I'll catch up with you at the common room," Cedric called to his friends as he stepped toward Harry. "I take it this conversation will need some privacy, especially if it's about what, or who, I think it is."

"Yeah." Harry looked around, thankful that there were no portraits in this stretch of the hallway. "It's about Hermione."

"Well it's about bloody time you came and talked to me," Cedric replied, and Harry took a step backward. "Her best friend, and it takes you this long to come threaten my manhood or future grandchildren or however the Potter family does it!"

"It wasn't any of my business, was it?" Harry asked, surprised by Cedric's reaction. "And besides, if my friends ever actually listened to anything I had to say on the topic of romance, Ron would have asked Hermione to date him at least a year ago, and she probably would have said yes at that point."

Cedric raised an eyebrow and Harry sighed. "I'm not threatening you. She's happy with you, and I didn't feel the need to intervene until I saw her feeling unhappy."

Cedric took all this into consideration, looking at the younger boy with appraising eyes. "So you approve?"

"I want to know why she's unhappy, first."

He sighed, running a hand through already tousled hair. "We had a disagreement. She's so obsessed with that confounded Skeeter woman…I just can't understand it. So the woman wrote some lies about her, but the point is that they're lies! Everyone with half a brain knows that they're not true, and now that all the fuss has died down I can't see why she's still on about that."

"And I take it she can't see why you can't see."

"In a nutshell, yes."

"Well," Harry considered. "Hermione's like that. She finds some mystery and she just has to pursue it until she knows all the answers. It's why she's so good at what she does."

"I know, and I like that tenacity, but it's so frustrating," Cedric sighed again, staring off to the side in thought. "And I think the entire topic of Rita Skeeter just irritates me in general."

"Try distracting her then. The third task's coming up and she told me she'd be glad to help me. She mentioned something about helping you, even though she wasn't sure she'd know enough spell work. Get her focused on that, with books or whatever. It'll keep her busy enough to not worry so much about that cow and make her feel needed, which is all that she really wants."

The older boy opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it. After a moment, he started again. "Y'know Harry, that just might work."

"It won't get her to give up on the woman, but it'll keep her from obsessing over it."

"Yeah…" Cedric adjusted his book bag and nodded. "You're pretty sharp, Harry."

"Sometimes it's easier to pretend not to be this insightful," Harry said, voice deadpan. "Keeps it so I don't have to beat the ladies off with a stick."

Cedric grinned. "Well, I've got to be getting back to the common room. But I'll definitely be taking some of that advice. Thanks, Potter."

"Anytime. Oh, and Cedric?"

"Yes?"

"Break her heart, and I'll break you."

"_That's_ what I was waiting for. See you around, Harry. Try not to get swarmed by obsessed fangirls."

"Same to you, Cedric. Watch out for those Ravenclaw third years--I hear they're brewing up love potions."

Cedric shuddered. "Maybe they're going to be the creatures in the maze for the task. I can't think of anything more horrifying."

"Blast-ended skrewts?"

"You know, Harry, if I wasn't worried about the task already, I would be now."

"Good to know I haven't lost my touch. Take care, Cedric."

"Yeah, you too." And with that Harry turned and headed for the staircase he'd just come down. Perhaps he'd have enough time before doing his homework to go flying. Then, he recalled the workload he'd received today and groaned. Hermione would be nagging him all evening to get it done--he might as well go ahead and get started now.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Hope to see you in chapter seventeen! **


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

My apologies for not updating as often as I'd have liked to. Real life is a cruel and fickle mistress. As always, many thanks to those who reviewed and feel free to leave a review if the mood takes you.

* * *

Hermione wasn't one to admit her faults, but she had to admit that Cedric was miles above her when it came to spell work.

"Nonsense. I couldn't do half the stuff you do now when I was a fourth year." He pretended not to see the glare she shot him but shifted from foot to foot and glanced at the door, then the window. Calculating his escape routes, Hermione decided, as Cedric's eyes once again made the sweep from door to window.

"You could do a patronus," she reminded him acidly, and saw his gaze light firmly on the window. Funny how she could read him likeHogwarts, A History now-- he was about to say something that might anger her.

For someone who appeared to be afraid for his life, Cedric's voice sounded rather smug. "True, but you forget I've had semi-decent Defense Against the Dark Arts professors."

"Professor Lupin was good!" Hermione glowered, unwilling to admit the educational system had somehow failed.

"The only one who was."

Hermione had to concede. Again. It wasn't turning out to be a good day for her ego.

"Hermione, the sheer fact that you are this advanced says incredible things about your drive and intellect." He smiled winningly, sidling up to the desk she was perched upon and batting his eyelashes like some heroine in a poorly directed romance. She was tempted to snort, but restrained it in order to spare his feelings. Sometimes he was worse than one of those fainting beauties.

Thank goodness Cedric could not read thoughts. And also that he was so sincere with his compliments. The fact that he always commented about her intellect helped greatly towards his case.

She gathered her thoughts. "Okay, let's go over your defense again. You're weak against curses aimed low. Just because you're tall enough to cast at chest level doesn't mean your attacker will be."

"When am I ever going to face a midget?"

Hermione glared. If she angled her wand slightly, she would be pointing at his legs. It was tempting to tilt it that extra bit and cast something. Jelly legs, she decided. Jelly legs would do the trick. And she would get a good laugh out of the irony.

"Okay, fine. Did you find anything that would help me extend my shield charm radius?"

At the mention of their original purpose for meeting in these classrooms every afternoon, she forgot all plans at revenge and turned back to the tome she had open on her lap. "Supposedly focus will do the trick," she said as she scanned the page, squinting at the tiny print, "but there's mention of a better spell."

"Protego really ought to be enough. I'm not going up against anything too tough."

She looked up at his grinning face. "Rather confident, are we? Be careful, the room might not fit your head."

"Not confident. Just self-assured. And extremely modest." He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that would have been deemed salacious had it not been so humorous. "And you like it."

She ended up casting the jinx anyway and laughed at the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he tried to feign anger.

"Hah, hah, so funny Granger. You're hilarious, really."

"I am rather witty. Humble too." She stifled a giggle at the way he shook his head ruefully.

"You got me there."

"I know."

"Do you really think I need the stronger shield charm?" Cedric asked, his face losing some of its humor as he stared up at the wild-haired Gryffindor sitting on the desk.

"It can't hurt," Hermione said after a moment. "I mean, if anything you learn it in an hour or less, and it would be handy to have in a pinch. Or in case someone tries to attack from behind."

"Yeah. After everything that's happened in this tournament… well, I'd appreciate something guarding my back." He examined the wand in his hands and pointed it at his feet with a mutter. After a moment with no apparent effects he sighed. "You cast a mean jelly legs."

"Harry."

"What?" Cedric looked up, only to find that Hermione was staring thoughtfully at the sky beyond the window. "What about him?"

"Team up with him for the maze. He doesn't care about winning at this point, as long as it's a Hogwarts win. If you stick together, you should be fine." She looked down at her companion. "I almost wish you wouldn't do this."

Cedric couldn't understand the sad look that crossed her face right then. "Why not?"

She furrowed her brow. "It just seems so worthless now. A pretty cup and a name in history. Harry's already got one and you'll make one for yourself soon enough anyway, so what's the point?"

He chuckled a little. "I've got more people to please than just you." Realizing the harshness of his words, he quickly stood, only to stumble a little at the not yet faded jinx. "Not to say that I don't care what you think or anything like that, just that my dad, and my mum, and my House are all rooting for me and I can't let them down." He was babbling at that point and Hermione wasn't sure whether to laugh or placate him. "It's Hufflepuff's chance for glory. You're Gryffindor, you wouldn't understand, but Hufflepuff hasn't won a House Cup in nearly five decades. And a Quidditch Cup? A century at least. They're relying on me to show the school and the rest of the wizarding world that Hufflepuffs aren't stupid or cowards or duffers, that we're tough and smart and we can do whatever we set out minds to. I'm their chance for glory."

Hermione held her hand up in a calming gesture as she shifted the book off her lap with the other. "Cedric."

"You don't get it. We've never been anything! Every first year on the train says "Oh, not Hufflepuff" and sometimes even the ones that get Sorted in are disappointed at first, and it's awful, because they're all such good people, and--"

She placed a hand over his mouth and smiled when his eyes practically radiated confusion. "Cedric, I get it. That's why I said I _almost_ wished. Hufflepuff deserves some glory."

She could feel his smile under her palm and snatched her hand away as if she'd been burned. "Sorry," she murmured, turning her face from his in an attempt to hide the flush heating her face.

His smile widened. "Really? I can't imagine why."

And then he was on the floor waiting for another pair of jelly legs to wear off. The disgruntled look he shot her only added to her irritation when he shook his head and groused, "Sometimes I have no idea why I like you."

Now he had a tickling curse to go with the weak knees.

* * *

There was no polite way to describe the way Ronald Weasley ate, Hermione decided as she stared across the table at the redheaded boy. He simply ate as if he were starving and fighting each and every single one of his brothers for the food. Fighting was, in fact, an accurate way of putting such things. She'd reached over not moments before to take a second helping of treacle tart only to have the boy snarl at her through a full mouth. She'd decided she could live without the second helping.

"Ron," Harry said, also staring in morbid fascination at the boy. The redhead had never growled at Hermione before. "Ron, are you all right?"

"'M juhhsh fime, shanks," he grunted around a large piece of meat, thankfully not spraying poor Colin Creevey, who gazed at Ron with incredulous eyes from his place two seats away. Hermione winced as she eyed Colin's position; he was in the line of fire. Ron tended to send small chunks of food flying through the gap left by the tooth Fred and George had chipped in one of their many pranks.

She shook her head. Third years. Even the first years had figured out where not to sit when it came to Ronald Weasley.

"This is ridiculous Ronald," she said, voice shriller than she had intended. "You can take the time to speak to us without stuffing your face inbetween words!"

Judging by the way the tips of his ears had flared to bright red, this conversation was going to go steadily downhill. She knew Harry also caught the sign of an impending Weasley Explosion, for he had started to sidle down the bench toward the Head Table. If worst came to worst, the safest spot to be would be as close to Dumbledore as possible.

"Is that right, Hermione?" Ron mocked, mouth thankfully empty of food. "You can't take the time to speak to us! So busy with Viktor all the time!"

Flushing, she opened her mouth to hiss a retort to him, only to shut her mouth with an audible click of her teeth. Perhaps it was better that he believed that.

"You're right," she said, pushing her plate away and rising. "That's exactly what I'm doing. Every time I meet someone, I abandon my friends. I always do, don't I Ronald?"

And with a toss of her head she marched off, feeling pleased at the bewildered expression that crossed his freckled face. Let him stew on that for a bit.

From across the Hall Cedric caught her eye. She gave him a slight smile and a nod before continuing toward the doors, falling in behind a gaggle of Ravenclaw girls. There was some Charms homework due next month she thought she'd finish. No sense in getting behind.

* * *

Each spell she worked on with Cedric, whether it was new or only focused on for improvement, she passed on to Harry. In the end they were both her boys, and Ronald too, no matter how stubborn he might be.

The spat was forgotten by the next day, as Harry chose to ask both of them to help him with the Leviosa charm. An empty classroom on the fourth floor served nicely, as did several cushions. When dropped, the plush objects were silent in comparison to the desks Ron had suggested.

"We don't need Peeves coming to help us," Harry said wryly, and even Ron acknowledged this with good humor.

"Oh, next thing you know he'd be bringing back the 'Potter You Rotter' song," the redhead cheerfully contributed as he attempted to improve his own spell work. With a sigh Hermione corrected his gesture before it could turn disastrous. Thankfully Harry had never picked up the awful habit of idle wand waving.

"Again," said Harry, voice dry. "We don't need Peeves helping us."

It was hard not to laugh when the two started to sing the song Ron had mentioned, Harry as if it were a funeral dirge and Ron as if it were a pop ballad.

No singer herself, and ill inclined to treat the two to her off-key warbling, she levitated a few cushions to dance around them, much to Ron's joy as one accidentally buffeted him about the head.

She apologized profusely, but he laughed it off. "Good thing you didn't let me hit that high note," he said later as they made their way down to dinner. "I might have broken something."

Practice sessions with Cedric were also filled with laughter, yet beneath each joke their lay a serious note to everything they did. Though Hermione held no belief in Divination, Cedric held to his belief in his friend Megan's abilities. "I'm not saying the future is set in stone," he reminded her often. "But it's a possible future."

Sometimes, when he'd mistake a jinx for another or fumble his wand movements, Hermione would wonder if she were only setting that future more in stone each day. Would her involvement somehow lead to his death?

Sometimes she'd have to invent homework as an excuse whenever she had those thoughts. It was too hard to pretend to laugh at his jokes when all she could think of was that warm skin turned cold and those beautiful grey eyes turned sightless.

Still, time wore on, flying it seemed, for Hermione could have sworn only last week they'd been down to the Quidditch pitch with Ludo Bagman. And yet here they were again, one day before a task.

"My parents are coming tomorrow," he said as they passed each other in the crowd of students filing into the Great Hall. "I want you to meet them."

And later, in the library among the many stacks. "I'm afraid," he whispered as his lips brushed against hers again and again before pressing harder, as if he could somehow cling all the tighter to time if he held onto her long enough.

And even later, hidden in an alcove near the Fat Lady's portrait. "I can't do it," he murmured into her hair, one hand clenched tight in hers and the other gentle against the nape of her neck. "I'm not strong enough, Hermione."

She kissed him then, lips a wordless assurance against his temple, along his throat, in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "You can," she breathed back, mouth forming the words against his own barely parted lips. "You are."

And before she left him, another kiss brushed along her knuckles, kisses on his eyelids, a playful yet oh so serious kiss to the tip of her nose, a press of lips to his. "You can have my courage," and though the words were inane, the sentiment was not.

He smiled halfheartedly. "You'll need it as much as I will." He released her hand gently, and it fell back to her side with too much finality for her liking.

And then he was gone, strides quickly taking him to the staircase and then beyond. He did not look back.

She understood. If he looked back, he would never leave.

The Fat Lady thankfully chose not to comment on the tears threatening at the corners of her eyes, and Parvati and Lavender lowered their voices and did their best not to disturb her when they entered the dormitory later on in the evening.

That night Hermione fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, and did not wake until morning.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

Hello again! Many thanks for the encouraging reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Dawn came both too early and too slowly for Hermione, who woke with the first hint of light over the horizon. Theoretically she knew that sunrise was a quick affair, but waiting for what would be deemed an appropriate time to wake was agony. Yet with every gain the sun made into the sky the closer sunset became. It was a strange sort of pain, this desperate impatience for time to speed up and even more desperate wanting for it to stop altogether. 

She clenched the book in her lap tight to her chest, fingers easily fitting into the grooves set over the years. Her copy of Hogwarts: A History had quite the history itself, beyond what it contained. It had been her constant companion as a wide-eyed first year, now it remained the sole stability in her life as a terrified fourth-year.

It was ironic how so many of the situations that had led her to peruse the book's contents suddenly seemed irrelevant. How Hogwarts worked, the different Houses' secrets, Voldemort, Dumbledore, the Heir of Slytherin, animagi, Rita Skeeter's mysterious invisibility, past Triwizard Tournaments -- none of it seemed to matter anymore. For once, she wished the well-cared for copy in her arms was titled Hogwarts: A Future instead.

A rustle from one of the beds; the curtains of Lavender's four poster parted as said girl poked her head out into the room, squinting in the early morning light. "Hermione? Everything all right?" The words were punctuated by a yawn as the girl ran a hand through her wild hair.

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep, Lavender." The girl nodded sleepily and acquiesced, her retreat into the warmth of the blankets accented by the swish of the curtains as she let them fall closed. Soft snoring soon accompanied Parvati's deep breathing, unchecked by the quiet conversation.

Hermione glanced once more towards the window. Though the world still seemed drowsy beneath the fog of night, it was light enough to justify wakefulness. She marked the page she had been staring at all morning with a sigh. Such distraction was intolerable, really.

Being so straitlaced had its downfalls, Hermione realized as she jumped at another noise behind her. The suit of armor waved an apology, and if he'd had a face she was sure it would be showing a chagrined expression as she turned to scold it for scaring her. She sighed, pushing a loose wisp of her hair behind her ear. It was all well and good to break rules when Harry was there, because everyone loved Harry Potter, but--

She stopped her thoughts there firmly. Harry had earned his status as the school's guardian, facing Voldemort too many times for a fourteen year old. To think such things about him was both uncharitable and cruel. He never asked for any of it, and it wasn't like she was breaking any rules here, skulking on the same floor as the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room, and coincidentally in the very same corridor as well. And skulking was such a harsh word anyway. It was more like loitering, or just taking a break. Nothing dodgy at all.

Another creak behind her had her spinning around, a reprimand on her lips, only to come face to face with a certain Hufflepuff. Her mouth, already prepared to form harsh words, shifted into an "o" shape as she gasped.

Cedric covered her mouth lightly with his hand, eyes widened at her reaction. "Don't scream!" he said, a smile fighting to break out across his lips. "Hufflepuff had a late night. The last thing we need is to wake any of them up."

She sighed, pressing a hand to her collarbone in a fruitless attempt to steady her heart. "Don't scare me like that then!" The retort came out more waspish than she intended. She quickly softened her tone, ignoring the slight indignation she felt that he had not yet removed his hand. It was such a petty thing to be angry about, after all. Especially now. "Besides, an angry Hufflepuff is not something I'd want to experience."

She reached up and took the hand covering her lips, interlocking her fingers with his. "Did you sleep?"

The smile threatening to take over his face died a swift death, replaced by a flat line. "Hardly."

"Then you're going to pay for that later. Better get some breakfast."

"Or we could skip breakfast." He took a step closer, voice lowering, their entwined hands dropping to hang beside them. "Who needs food, anyway?"

His low tone sent delightful shivers up and down her spine. "You might not, but the rest of us mortals do," she teased, batting her eyelashes like she'd seen Parvati do so many times to various boys. Cedric quirked an eyebrow, amusement evident as she smiled at him. "Besides, today's your big day. Your fans will be waiting to give their accolades."

He faked a pout. "Do I have to accept them?"

"Yes," Hermione adopted her most bossy tone.

"Will any of them be your accolades?" A smirk blossomed on his face and she decided to play along.

"If you're well-behaved today, I'm sure something will be arranged."

He looked quite pleased. Hermione hid a smile as she stepped away and tugged on his hand. The walk to the Great Hall was less than five minutes, but she was sure they'd find a way to make it last longer than twenty.

The Great Hall was practically deserted when they stumbled in, laughing and teasing. In fact, only a few Ravenclaw girls that Hermione recognized as third years sat among the student tables, gossiping quietly. Professors Sinistra and Vector were deep in conversation at the High Table. Hermione ignored the glances the girls shot at her and waved at the professors before leading Cedric to a seat at the Gryffindor table.

"I can't sit here," he teased as he sat obediently, taking the dish that appeared before him, courtesy of the House Elves in the kitchen. "Only think if Weasley saw you fraternizing with the enemy!"

She rolled her eyes in remembrance to Ron's accusations. "He won't be out of bed for at least another hour."

"I'm too terrified of his reaction to stay. The Gryffindor table is only for the brave."

Hermione yawned so hard that her jaw popped. It took effort to close her mouth enough to retort, yet stubbornness won out over sleepiness once she saw Cedric's grin. "Then you'd better stay. You'll be needing some courage."

The cheery atmosphere died a swift death right then, though Cedric's grin remained firmly in place. "I suppose you're right."

They ate in silence after that, occasionally commenting on the students who trickled in as the morning wore on but not making effort to converse. It was nice, forgetting the unspoken rules of separation between Houses for a moment. But the moment had to end, and after several students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff came over to congratulate Cedric for getting this far, he returned to his own House's table. A few students was one thing, but they weren't quite ready to be a spectacle for the entire school.

Harry was down soon after, Ron in tow, and the noise of Hogwarts followed. Gryffindor seemed especially boisterous today; with Harry and Cedric tied for first place, many were feeling the competitive air.

Hermione wasn't paying close attention to the Daily Prophet as she untied it from the screech owl's leg. It wasn't until she'd unfurled it that she saw the headline.

Harry Potter: "Disturbed and Dangerous" glared out in bold, black print. Below it a picture of Harry looked uncertain and dodgy, continuously attempting to leave the frame. Hermione, in the middle of swallowing, felt her throat close. Reflexively she spit out the remaining juice in her mouth, to the incredulous stares of the boys.

"What?" The two chimed together.

In her haste to hide the paper Hermione felt too flustered to come up with an excuse. "Nothing," she said, and felt like hitting herself. Of course, saying _nothing_ meant that surely it was_something_. Ron snatched the paper from her hands.

Hermione averted her eyes from the two arguing before her, Ron protective and Harry resigned. Of course it was Rita Skeeter. Of course it would be today. Hermione looked around as unobtrusively as she could, trying to count the amount of students with Daily Prophets. Too many. Everyone would know of the article before the task even started tonight.

Cedric's troubled face caught her eye from the Hufflepuff table. He raised his eyebrows, then glanced at the paper in his hand. Was it true?

She shook her head, vehement. Cedric quickly turned back to his own housemates before their silent exchange caught any attention and she turned back to hers, waiting for the two to finish reading the article. And today had started so well, too.

That Harry had been overheard at the top of the North Tower was downright disturbing. Not only had Rita gotten past all the castle's protections, she had also bypassed the protections of the individual teachers, as well as avoided being seen entirely. It was impossible, wasn't it?

Harry was getting frustrated. His anxiety about the task had just been doubled by the appearance of this article. He was close to shouting as he demanded an answer. How was Rita accomplishing the impossible?

"I've been trying!" Hermione retorted, recalling long hours in the library examining countless texts, not encountering a single clue. "But I… but…"

And then a rush of clarity filled her, so cool it felt as if a ghost had decided to sit with her. There had been a clue. The option she hadn't really considered, because rules were _rules_, and so it couldn't be… But Rita didn't play by the rules. She had proven that again and again. And it was the perfect way to be both physically and magically invisible while in Hogwarts. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew had discovered a way to do it; their success had paved the way.

Beyond both of those proven thoughts there was a way to prove this theory of hers. The Marauder's Map would show an animagus for what he or she truly was; if Rita was the beetle that had been in her hair and in the palm of Malfoy's hand, then it would give a whole new meaning to the word "bugged." And it would give her a way to trap the reporter once and for all.

She barely even noticed the blank stares she was getting from Harry and Ron as she tried to explain it to them. The Gryffindor know it all was too distracted to even give a proper explanation as she slowly put the pieces together within her mind. It all made sense now, but there was one thing left to check. If she was right about all of this, then they had Rita Skeeter, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"Just give me two seconds in the library -- just to make sure!" Hermione was certain, though, that this was it. She could even picture the page the information she needed was on. This was it.

Bag flying behind her, she was out of the Great Hall so fast that she completely missed the annoyed expression that passed over Cedric's face, though it was quickly smoothed away as Professor Sprout stopped by. It would be good to see his mum and dad again, he thought. He, too, rose. With no exams there would be plenty of time to fill in his parents on all the events of the year, and maybe even time to mention a girl who was becoming very near to his heart.

Said girl hadn't been able to speak with Cedric after the History of Magic exam, as he had shot her a warning glance when she had begun to make her way over to the Hufflepuff table. Though the rejection hurt, common sense won over. There was no need to give gossipers (and Rita Skeeter in particular) more ammunition, especially with the end of the tournament so near. Once the tournament was over, once they were the obscure students they had been before, then they could just _be_.

Dinner had also fallen through, and Hermione resolved to just smile and let it go. She knew Harry would appreciate it if she was with him tonight instead of Cedric. Besides, Cedric had his parents as well as his entire house for a cheering section. He would be all right without her for a night, and she could always wish him luck just in passing.

"Hey Hermione," Lavender leaned over from her left. "Can I borrow one of your quills for a minute?"

She reached into her book bag without looking, feeling for where she usually kept her quills. It took no effort to pull one out, though the piece of parchment that fell onto her lap as she did was curious. Hermione handed the quill to Lavender, examining the paper.

_I'm sorry that things didn't go as planned_, the neat script read, and there was a flutter in her belly at the sight of Cedric's words. _Would you meet me after the task is over anyway?_ The note was simply signed, _Love, your Cedric_.

A glance at the Hufflepuff table showed him deep in conversation with his father. She waited until he looked up, then gave a quick nod. His face lit into a grin.

Then Dumbledore rose to his feet, asking the champions to head down to the pitch, and there was no more time. Hermione found she was gasping in little breaths over the hard knot of worry that clenched hard inside of her. A half-hearted "Good luck!" passed from her lips as Harry stood, and as the others wished him well she found herself looking back at Cedric.

His housemates were crowding around him, reaching for his hand to shake or a piece of his robe to hold, even if just for a second. The well wishes flew thick and fast, yet for a moment Cedric's eyes met hers. The intensity of his gaze shook her. "Good luck," she mouthed. "I love you."

The stark fear in his eyes turned blank, with one slow blink the curtains over the windows to his soul were closely drawn. Though it hurt to see him that way, Hermione understood. Too much fear could undo you, paralyze you. In the end, Cedric was no Gryffindor. He might be brave, but it was not his nature to have no fear.

* * *

Rita Skeeter was ready. Though she carried no camera this time, the official photographer, here on behalf of the Ministry, would do. It would be difficult to get quotes, but she was not here for the excited babblings of the students. Tonight was about experience, about seeing the climax of the entire event firsthand. She'd covered the tournament since the beginning, she'd be here to see it end. 

The sky was turning dark as twilight set in. As a beetle her eyesight was not the best, and rather poor at night. She had best hurry if she wanted to reach the task before it began.

The reporter turned to the window, flicking it open with a wave of her wand. Once the wand was placed carefully on the bedside table of her room at the inn, she concentrated. The transformation was easier each time, it seemed.

When she opened her eyes, the world seemed much larger around her. The first seconds of her animagus form were always a bit disorienting. With a buzz of her wings she was perched on the windowsill, antennae noting the chill of the breeze. She would be cutting things close.

Rita Skeeter was ready. With all the precision of an acrobat she launched herself into the air. The third task would be starting shortly.

* * *

Hermione was not ready. Her hands felt clammy and clumsy as she clutched the Marauder's Map to her chest. Time seemed to be moving too fast -- the task was starting, Rita would be here soon, Harry looked_ terrified_ down on the pitch, Cedric looked like a marble statue, beautiful in his frozen expression. Fleur was worried, staring steadfastly into the stands where her sister Gabrielle waited. Even Viktor looked uneasy, shifting from foot to foot as he shot occasional looks at the darkness behind him. How had time gotten away from all of them? How had none of these four wonderful people before her not recognized its loss, how had none of them had the skills to catch it, to hold onto it? 

Such regrets were useless now. The Gryffindor glanced around, making sure all her housemates were focused on the champions, before tapping the Marauder's Map. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," she promised. Beneath her wand tip, a sketch of the Quidditch pitch appeared.

There were so many names! For a moment Hermione bit her lip. It seemed an impossible task, trying to sort out one from many. And then she saw it.

_Rita Skeeter_, less than twenty paces in front of the bubble labeled _Hermione Granger_, less than five to the right of _Harry Potter_. Hermione's eyes found the hedgerow that fit the distances. A jade colored iridescent beetle perched on the side of it, visible against the dark green leaves. Confirmation.

Bagman's whistle sounded, a sharp sound against the dull roar of cheers, and the first two champions were off. Harry and Cedric marched into the gloom of the hedgerows, ignorant to the desperation of Hermione's gaze. In the end, she loved both of them, her best friend and the boy she was falling more in love with every day. Hermione was not ready to let them go, not now.

She didn't believe in Divination, no matter how Cedric trusted his friend's gifts. Yet that belief didn't ease the fear that spiked sharply as she lost sight of them, their backs disappearing into the dark green of the maze.

Rita had disappeared with the whistle, but suddenly the reporter didn't matter anymore. Hermione only wanted her boys, both of her boys, to come back safe.

Two more whistles blew, and beside her Ron reached over and took her hand.

"It'll be all right," he assured her, awkward in his own fear for Harry. "Harry will be all right. He's stronger than we give him credit for."

Hermione smiled briefly before turning back to look at the maze. "You're right. And you're more sensitive than I give you credit for."

He blushed, and she supposed that meant all was forgiven from their argument before, so she settled down to wait. They would be back, she knew it in her heart. They would be back, and everything would be all right.

* * *

Not much left to go now. Thank you for reading and hopefully you'll be back for the next chapter! 


	19. Chapter 19

First I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. I know it's been awhile since there's been an update.

Second I'd like to once again disclaim my ownership of Harry Potter and all affiliated characters. Some dialogue in this chapter has been taken directly from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I do not own these quotes either.

Third I'd like to say that this has been beta'ed, but that would be a lie. My apologies for any mistakes, feel free to point them out.

Happy reading.

* * *

Had it really been a month since he'd been out here with Harry listening to Bagman prattle on about the third task? Logically he could recall the passing of time, the marking off of dates on the calendar, but emotionally it was as if someone had slipped the chain of a time-turner around his neck and sent it spinning forward. He wasn't ready for this, despite the month he'd spent practicing every spell he knew and then some. He just wasn't.

Chills prickled the back of his neck as a breeze emanating from the maze ruffled his hair. He could almost taste the cool dampness of the evening air, and if he blocked out the raucous voices calling from the stands he could almost pretend that this was just another Hogwarts evening he was spending out by the lake.

Something buzzed past his ear and he swatted at it ineffectually. _'So much for pretending,'_ he thought as the noise of the crowd hit his returned senses full force. _'Ready or not, this is really happening, Ced.'_

He wasn't a brave man. While he liked to think of himself as willing to stand up for injustices, Cedric Diggory was not the kind of man to play the hero. He was far more likely to play the sidekick, loyal and supporting, there when the hero was ready to give up. The Sorting Hat had been right, so many years before, to place him in Hufflepuff. In that same context, the Goblet of Fire had been wrong.

The rest of the students had already filed into the stands, bright eyed and eager to support him. At first Cedric had been hopeful that the school would have changed its collective mind, but Potter Stinks badges were still prominently displayed on many. He sighed and thoroughly wished that they had just gotten over the whole situation already. Harry had proven his worth as a champion several times over now, perhaps even more so than Cedric himself.

Harry coughed lightly, and when Cedric glanced across the maze entrance at the boy he had to bite back a grin at the ironic twist to the other boy's lips. "What's the matter, Potter? Scared?"

"Terrified," Harry said, and Cedric took note of the fingers that tapped anxiously on the side of the boy's right leg. "But at least I hide it better."

"What?" Cedric asked, quirking an eyebrow and allowing his eyes to deliberately rest on the twitchy hand. Harry noticed his gaze and, with a blush, stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robes.

He was hard-pressed to bite back that grin when Harry finally spoke again. "You're shaking."

The grin died completely as he looked down at his own hands. They were trembling, his grip on his wand so tight his knuckles had turned the pale white of the bones beneath. A crease formed between his eyebrows as he drew them together. He wasn't supposed to be anxious. It was just a hedgerow maze on a quidditch field, nothing more, nothing less. There was nothing to fear here.

To the sides Fleur appeared equally anxious, yet Krum proved once more to be an anomaly. The Durmstrang champion stood at ease, expression completely blank, almost dazed. Having never been a particular fan of Bulgaria's team it was difficult to say whether or not this stoicism was normal for him. For a moment Cedric envied the man his inner peace, for he seemed to be far away from the simple worries of this task.

A deep breath did nothing to help the Hufflepuff as Dumbledore called out the order they would enter the maze, so he took another, and another. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the crack of the signal.

'_Deep breaths, I can do this,'_ he thought as he headed into the maze, completely forgetting Hermione's instructions to team up with Harry and turning right as the fourth year turned left.

* * *

While the anticipation and build-up to the third task had left Hermione nursing fears and nightmares only half-recognized, the actual event was quite the let down. Once the champions were gone, there was nothing to do but wait.

Judging by the frown that seemed cemented onto Professor McGonagall's face as she spoke with Professor Dumbledore below and the disapproving glances she aimed at Ludo Bagman every time he strolled near her in his efforts to excite the crowd, the task had not been well thought out. The maze was very large, and it seemed more and more likely that it would take the champions several hours to complete it. Apparently none of the architects of the third task had considered that, given the timeframe, they would be leaving the rest of the students to their own amusements.

Hermione sent a sidelong glance past Ron to where Fred and George sat conversing in hurried whispers. This could not end well.

With Rita Skeeter's secret found and the task in progress, she found that all her worries had evaporated. It was only a maze, and there were professors all around. Certainly Dumbledore could handle whatever challenges the maze might throw at her boys.

There was nothing to fear here. Satisfied with that conclusion, Hermione reached into her book bag for her newest text, _Experimental Magic _by Larius Safern. The chapter on the ethics of testing spells on various magical creatures was fascinating, and S.P.E.W. could always use more help.

* * *

While he had known that there wasn't going to be much light in the maze, what with the sun setting over the nearby mountains as they waited for the task to start, Cedric hadn't realized just how _dark_ it would be once they were enclosed by the hedge rows. He also hadn't realized how strange the entire task would be. Claustrophobia was not something he had ever suffered from, but the Hufflepuff couldn't help but wonder if by the end of this he would find himself having nightmares about the trapping hedges.

What bothered him most, he decided as he peered around a corner, was the sense that he was completely and utterly alone. The hedges acted as a natural sound block, and without the noise from his classmates back at the start and the sight of any other beings, he found himself wishing for someone, anyone to come find him.

A rustling ahead made him yank his head back from where he had been eyeing the next intersection. He cursed silently; if the approaching sounds gave any indication, something had found him.

"'Arry?" A feminine voice whispered, and Cedric could have cried with relief as the sharp pang of terror faded. Still, best to be cautious. Who knew what sort of charms and traps had been placed? It could be some sort of voice mimicking creature of Hagrid's.

He chanced another glance out into the hedged corridor and felt his caution melt away as he caught sight of widened pale eyes. "Fleur, it's Cedric!" he whispered urgently, still not entering the path in case she was considering eliminating him as competition. "You all right?"

The French girl nodded to him, yet continued to hurry south down the corridor. "I think there is something following me," her heavily accented whisper reached his ears as she passed the turnoff where he stood, throwing fearful glances over her shoulder. Cedric noticed suddenly that though her wand was out she was not using it to light her way, and in the light emitting from his own wand she appeared both haggard and almost feral.

'_Part veela,'_ he reminded himself as another rustle from the north end of the long passage made the girl start. Her gaze turned from haggard to terrified, and she broke into a run.

Cedric barely had the presence of mind to hiss out a quick "Nox!" before ducking around the bend and crouching as close to the hedge wall as he could. His light dazzled eyes left him blind in the renewed darkness, adding to the fear that welled in his chest as _something_ raced past, hot on the girl's trail.

In a way he was grateful for that blindness. He didn't _want_ to know anymore.

As soon as his vision cleared and he was certain that whatever-that-thing-was was not going to come back for him, Cedric moved back into the intersection and advanced north.

He had just turned off into another lane when a shrill scream, clearly from Fleur's lips, rent the air. A shower of red sparks lit the dusky sky for a short moment before fading away once more, leaving Cedric to wonder just what the judges had been thinking with this task.

* * *

Hermione had seen the sparks the moment they rose over the hedgerows, and putting two and two together with the scream realized that Fleur was out of the game.

The French girl had seemed so strong, too.

She felt the worry stir again, and let it. As much as she wanted to believe that it was the challenges in the maze that had proved too much for Fleur, she knew it was far more likely that it had been the other champions than any creature or spell trap.

As much as she didn't want to think badly of any of the remaining competitors, especially not Harry or Cedric, she also knew that desperation and fear changed even the best of people.

But she was stuck out here with the rest of the helpless and captive audience, and there was nothing to do but worry, and wait, and hope.

* * *

The telltale prickle at the back of his neck warned him the split second before he turned to see Krum, hooked nose and all, wand at the ready.

Still stunned from the quiet appearance of the other champion, Cedric asked rather sharply to his intentions. Upon receiving no answer, and suddenly noting the odd stare the Quidditch star had fixed on him, he opened his mouth again only to find himself staring at the wand pointed right at his face.

"What the hell d'you think you're doing?" he yelled, raising his own wand; the Bulgarian had completely left the realm of predictability--

--a gravelly, accented voice cast the Cruciatus Curse before Cedric could even consider a counter. There was no time to cast a shield charm as his back arched in pain. At some point he fell and found himself writhing on the grass, facedown, shouting his pain to the earth and sod and the pebble digging slightly into his right cheek.

When Harry came through the hedge and knocked the Bulgarian out, it was as if Cedric had been underwater and suddenly surfaced. He drew a deep breath which quickly turned into a hiss as a faint echo of the previous pain sounded in his ribs.

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes in an attempt to will back the pain as the Gryffindor helped him to sit and later stand. Had he somehow broken his ribs or just bruised them from the fall and subsequent thrashing? Cedric was sure that if he had broken them they would hurt more, and for a moment considered sending up red sparks for himself.

Then again, the task was still on. Now there was only Harry and whatever spell and creature challenges to worry about, what with both Fleur and Krum's removal (Cedric highly suspected that the former had been caused by the latter). If he didn't give up now, Hufflepuff could still have a victory.

For a moment he allowed himself to picture the tournament trophy in the common room, allowed himself to picture next year's first years, maybe some even _eager_ to be in Helga Hufflepuff's house.

The images were too tempting. Holding his side and his wand Cedric Diggory took the right fork in the path, breaking into as best a run he could manage once Harry was out of sight.

* * *

When Viktor Krum emerged from the maze, supported by Karkaroff and looking rather freshly Stupefied Hermione did not participate in the cheers that rippled through the stands. While Krum had not caught her fancy as she had apparently caught his, she did respect him. Ignoring Ron's attempt to lead the Gryffindor side of the stands in a chant of Harry's name, she did her best to discern the strange set of his features.

The Marauder's Map had proved to be both a help and a hindrance during her wait. While she could watch the dots labeled with the champions' names traverse the maze, the maze did not appear on the map. To the map, Fleur Delacour, Viktor Krum, Harry Potter, and Cedric Diggory had apparently decided to take a very roundabout and convoluted stroll across the Quidditch field. She had seen the dots containing the three boys' names intersect one another, and it appeared that something had happened to Krum, but without knowing the situation surrounding the facts she could give no proper analysis.

From here, Viktor appeared to be suffering from more than just an impressive Stupefy. Rather than seem as if he were emerging from a stunned state, he looked as if he had just regained consciousness. Normally she would have decided she didn't know him well enough to judge his expressions, but there was something familiar about the confusion he was evidently experiencing. It seemed rather similar to the effects of being Obliviated, but she knew that wasn't the answer.

Annoyed that she couldn't remember where she had seen this similar state of being before, Hermione filed it into the back of her mind where she kept all the questions she couldn't currently answer for later research. If only she wasn't so sure she'd seen it before… but where? And why?

* * *

They had agreed to take the cup together. Much as Cedric wanted, for once in his life, to just take all the damn glory and be done with it, he was still fair. He could already feel the phantom pangs his conscience would guilt him with if he took Harry's offer, and to take it together, a true Hogwarts victory, seemed far more fitting than the usual besting of a house.

When the portkey took them, Cedric didn't panic. Considering the dangers of the task, the massive spider guarding the cup itself notwithstanding, using a portkey to transport the winner back to the entrance made sense. It was a very thoughtful gesture for Dumbledore to do such a thing, and the Hufflepuff felt a warm rush of gratitude towards the Headmaster. He was very tired, both physically and mentally exhausted. It would be nice to escape to the Prefect's Bath after the task, provided his house let him go even for a quick wash.

Something was wrong. Cedric noticed the moment he landed, feet first the way his father had taught him to. Though Harry's weight dragged him down as the boy collapsed on his injured leg, he knew his father would have congratulated him for the landing anyway. Amos Diggory had been so proud of his son's seemingly natural aptitude for so many areas of life, always full of praise and boasts for his only boy. Cedric had taken to his father immediately, instinctually eager to please the man who regarded him so highly.

His more basic instincts were speaking to him now, and it took him a moment to figure out what was wrong.

The air of a Hogwarts summer evening, usually cool due to the nearby lake, had been replaced with a chill, dank atmosphere. He opened his eyes, not surprised that they were no longer at Hogwarts. If the portkey had been what he originally thought it was, they would have landed to raucous cheers, not eerie silence. If the portkey had landed at Hogwarts, he would recognize where they were. Though the castle and its grounds were, in a way, ever-changing, there was no cemetery at the school. If there had been one, it would have been much more well-kept than this dilapidated collection of graves.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, wince obvious even in the darkness as Cedric pulled him to his feet. The Gryffindor stood hipshot, resting his weight on his uninjured leg as best he could. Cedric offered his shoulder for support as Harry stared at their surroundings, a faint look of fear steadily creeping over his face. Though he wanted to rid Harry that growing terror Cedric knew he could not, for his own expression surely mirrored it. If Harry Potter, not only a Gryffindor but the boy who had faced down You-Know-Who more times in his fourteen years of life than anyone Cedric knew other than Dumbledore, was afraid, then there was no hope for Cedric's failing courage at all.

Even with their wands out the fear did not abate. While he had never held superstitions about graveyards, Cedric was starting to think that, along with small spaces, graveyards would soon populate his nightmares. Neither cast Lumos, not out of any actual agreement but out of the unspoken realization that in this gloom, the light would attract anything nearby. _Anything_.

He thought he had been scared before the task, but that anxiety was nothing compared to the uneasiness that roiled in his belly now. This wasn't part of the task, he was sure of it. Something was wrong.

Something moved in the distance; there was a figure emerging from the gloom. He squinted, wanting to call out, but remembering Krum's blank gaze and the sheer _pain_ that followed he stopped. This might not be a friend.

The figure was of rather short stature, he noticed as it came closer. A woman? Was she carrying something? It was so hard to see in this infernal darkness, where was a full moon when he needed it?

Whatever or whoever it was, the figure came to a halt and for a long moment the three faced off. Then Harry fell to the ground screaming.

Where had the Cruciatus Curse come from? There'd been no incantation, no warning, Harry was in such pain he wasn't even moving, just twitching spasmodically and Cedric's heart was in his throat with panic when--

"_Kill the spare."_

--when the green light hit him, and in that instant, as his life left him, the panic faded into a vague sense of remorse. The possible reasons for this were varied and only brought up in conversation when, years later, others had the sense to wonder if Hufflepuff's Golden Boy had any regrets.

Whether it was that he thought of Hufflepuff in his last moments and felt bad that they would not get the glory they craved or felt sorry that he had never outright apologized to Cho Chang for his actions during the year, no one could say. Maybe in his last thought he regretted that Harry would be here alone with this twisted _thing_ before them, or grieved for the parents he would never see or hold again. He might have been thinking of all the friends and classmates, still obliviously waiting for his return at Hogwarts, that he would be leaving behind. He might have been thinking of the future he was losing, or of the life he had lived so far. If in those bittersweet last moments he thought of Hermione, if he missed her and her smile and the way she would wrap her arms around him, no one would ever know.

Long before anyone would wonder what his last thoughts were as Peter Pettigrew's killing curse hit him, Cedric Diggory was gone.


End file.
